


Unexpected

by PinkGerberDaisies



Series: Change Directions AU [2]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Baby Daddy AU, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Messy FWB to Lovers, Hockey player AU, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, Reciprocation, Slow Burn, Smut, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 89,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21724621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGerberDaisies/pseuds/PinkGerberDaisies
Summary: Tessa Virtue has been in love with her best friend, Maple Leafs star centerman Scott Moir, for a very long time. Resigned to believing that her feelings are unrequited, she contents herself with their close friendship and her life as an aspiring lawyer. But when he unexpectedly becomes a father, everything starts to change.Or: A retelling of some of the chapters from Change Directions from Tessa's point of view
Relationships: Scott Moir & Tessa Virtue, Scott Moir/Tessa Virtue
Series: Change Directions AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565767
Comments: 246
Kudos: 276





	1. all i know... is everything has changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter coincides with Chapter 10 of Change Directions. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19430503/chapters/49189349
> 
> The morning after Scott wins gold in Pyeongchang continuing through Tessa coming home and both of them struggling with the resulting awkwardness. Also includes Scott's attempt to fix it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may remember, this chapter features reciprocation at the end.
> 
> Rated E for Everyone Be Warned About Smut

** all i know... is everything has changed **

** **

The temperature outside is freezing, the pale yellow rays of sunlight cresting the mountaintops doing little to ward off the February chill, and Tessa tucks her scarf in a little tighter around her neck as she picks up her pace back towards the hotel. In hindsight, perhaps a pre-dawn walk hadn’t been the best idea, but she’d needed the time and space it provided to clear her head and adjust to her new reality. To this new world in which she and Scott finally engaged in a sexual act and it didn’t mean anything.

Blinking back the tears that threaten to fall, she shakes her head to vigorously repel that line of thinking. It’s gotten her absolutely nowhere all night – his muttered words before falling asleep replaying over and over in her mind ever since he said them, torturing her endlessly with their callous indifference, offering no reprieve from the ache that’s taken up residence deep inside her heart – and she’s tired of crying. Tired of grieving the misunderstanding that she should have seen coming from a mile away.

Of course there was another girl. Of course getting a blow-job from Tessa didn’t mean anything to him other than a casual hook-up. An easier option than heading back out into the cold and finding another partner to satisfy his needs. She should have known from the start that’s all it was, and she’s furious she let herself hope it was anything more.

Not that she blames him for having needs or desires after the events of yesterday. This isn’t her first rodeo – she’s been to an Olympic Games with him before and knows just how horny athletes get under the intense pressure and how filled to the brim they all are with adrenaline and in desperate need of an outlet – but she’d never expected to find herself in the position of playing willing partner to Scott’s post-gold medal game needs.

At least, not like this.

(Okay… maybe in Vancouver there had been signs and _moments_ and more than once she’d thought maybe he would… but nothing came of it so she’d dismissed it and moved on. She’d never expected to come full circle eight years later.)

When she’d imagined their first time… if a blow job can count as that… it had not been at the Olympics with a drunk Scott and shrouded in confusion. Over the years she’d dreamed up a million different scenarios, but it had never been that. For one thing, there had always been dates beforehand, at least one or two, and there had definitely been kissing, and when they had sex it would be accompanied by declarations of love and Tessa finally having the opportunity to tell him about the feelings she’s been harboring for him since she was fifteen (and probably younger, if you include her innocent childish crush when they first started skating together).

Not that she’s been pining for him! Tessa’s not one to sit idly by waiting for _anything_, least of all a man. When Scott ended their skating partnership to pursue hockey and was committed to being best friends, she accepted their relationship for what it was and stuffed her obviously unrequited feelings into a box inside her heart and locked them away – choosing instead to focus on school and her career. She’d dated, fallen in love once or twice (she thinks, she’s still not sure. After meeting Scott most of her boyfriends didn’t stick around long enough for her to be certain), and made a conscious effort not to let her private hopes and dreams about her best friend affect her ability to live a full and happy life. And she’s been fine, _happy, _with that for the last thirteen years. It was a system that worked and worked well! And now it’s ruined. Crumbled to the ground because of his wandering hands and her over-eager mouth.

Damn the Tessa from last night who didn’t push Scott away the second he cuddled up to her and started kissing her neck. There were big red flashing warning signs the whole time and she ignored all of them because it felt good and because she’d thought…

Well, it doesn’t matter now what she’d thought. Obviously Scott wasn’t thinking the same so it’s irrelevant.

What matters is that they move past this. Losing Scott as her best friend is not an option, and so she has to do whatever it takes to ensure their friendship remains intact and undamaged by this little… _slip_… in behavior. She just needs some new boundaries for a little while and a chance to clear her head, and then everything can go back to normal.

First things first, she needs space. The second Scott had fallen asleep she’d gotten out of bed to take a shower (if she’d cried for a while under the scalding stream of water, well, that’s her business), and then immediately went about changing her flight home. There’s no way she can sit next to him and Hannah and the rest of his family in a small, confined space for thirteen straight hours and pretend everything is fine.

It’s going to be hard to tell him that she’ll be missing the closing ceremonies and ruining the plans they’d had together today, but he’ll understand if she claims it’s for work. _And besides, _her traitorous brain supplies, _maybe he can find that other girl to take her place_.

That thought has Tessa pausing by the front door of the hotel to collect herself, wiping the corners of her eyes and furiously blinking hot tears away while waving off the well-meaning valet – attempting to smile as genuinely as possible when he kindly asks if she’s alright.

_Of course I’m alright, _she thinks, squaring her shoulders and marching past him into the lobby, _I’m Tessa Virtue and I do not cry over Scott dating other women_. She’d had to learn to deal with that a long time ago, this shouldn’t be any different just because of one incident last night, however much her heart might be hurting.

She strides into the hotel with a level of confidence she doesn’t feel, shivering as the warmth caresses her pink cheeks and starts to seep in through her heavy layers, and walks right into Joe Moir - nearly knocking him to the ground and tripping over his feet when they try to right themselves. The two of them clinging to each other as they try to avoid disaster.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Tessa shouts, holding him by the elbows as they both wobble to a standstill – hesitating to make sure he’s truly stable before letting go. “I didn’t see you.”

“It’s alright, Tessa, I should have been paying attention to where I was going. I was just distracted by that little bird over there that’s snuck into the hotel. I think it’s a Black Paradise Flycatcher.” He adjusts his glasses and points towards a little ledge in the upper corner of the lobby where a small blueish-black creature is hopping around, and Tessa laughs, hoping that neither of Scott’s parents can tell she’s been crying.

How mortifying would it be to get comforted by his parents right now, of all people. They love her like another child, she knows, but they can't control who their son falls in love with, so it would only be awkward and uncomfortable for everyone. 

“A much more worthwhile use of your time. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

“Please don’t encourage him,” Alma jokes, waving her off with a twinkle in her eye - a look Tessa's often seen mirrored in Scott's, “I fear in his retirement Joe is becoming quite the amateur ornithologist.”

Joe tears his gaze away from the rare bird, his soft smile fading as he stares at his wife, affronted. “And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, until you start trying to drag me all over creation chasing after them. Especially those big scary ones you showed me the other day.” Alma visibly shudders, and Tessa laughs again.

“There is nothing scary about the shoe-billed stork,” He insists, “And you might find that you enjoy visiting East Africa if you give it a chance.”

“It’s terrifying, honey, and you can’t convince me otherwise. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with the birds we have around Ilderton. They're lovely.”

Tessa smiles at that. Alma always was a home-body. To her there could be no place better than her small town of Ilderton. A belief she’d passed on to her youngest son, despite the fact that he’d chosen a career that so often took him away from there.

With that reminder of Scott comes another wave of sadness, and Tessa’s smile falls – her posture falling with it. Her emotional slump physically manifesting itself as she wraps her arms around her torso and holds on tight to her elbows. When she looks up, she finds Alma and Joe looking at her expectantly, and realizes they must have asked her something. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you’d had breakfast yet." Alma reaches out and gently touches her elbow, a crease forming between her eyebrows. "You look a little pale.”

“Oh, no,” Tessa quickly shakes her head, “I haven’t, but I’m alright. I don’t think I’ll eat anything this morning.”

“There’s no need to be nervous now!” Joe grins, misunderstanding her lack of appetite, “The Games are over and our boy won! You can eat all you want to. No need suffering for his sake any longer." 

_Ha_, Tessa snorts humorlessly, _if only he knew. _

“I’m fine, really.”

“Nonsense,” Alma tsks, taking her by the arm and guiding her towards the dining area, “Scott’s told me about how you have a habit of forgetting to eat when you’re stressed. I insist that you sit down with us. You like poached eggs, as I recall, I’m sure we can order you some.”

Left with no other choice, Tessa allows Scott's parents to guide her towards a table and forces herself to smile and nod when Joe offers to retrieve the eggs and some orange juice for her. Taking off her thick puffy coat and hanging it over the back of her chair before settling in for what is definitely about to be the most awkward breakfast of her life. She figures she'll need to eat with them for about twenty minutes before she can politely make her escape - so she'll just have to come up with a topic that's safe enough for discussion. Something far away from anything Scott related.

Thankfully Joe comes back armed with the food and conversation about a nice family from Spain he met at the hockey game yesterday, and Tessa slips into silence while the two of them discuss potentially traveling to Spain for their anniversary in the summer. 

For the first time in her life, Tessa doesn’t want to eat poached eggs. They’re her favorite. The only thing she knows how to cook successfully with any sort of regularity. And yet she pushes them around her plate like they’re the most unappetizing thing she’s ever had the fortune to lay eyes on, sipping on her orange juice even as it sours in her mouth. 

_Fifteen minutes and forty-seven seconds. _

“Good morning!” Scott’s voice cheerfully announcing his presence has Tessa’s whole body jerking in shock – her fork clattering as it drops and her spasming hands nearly shoving her plate into her mug of coffee.

Nobody seems to notice her extreme reaction, thank god. Scott’s busy buckling Hannah into her high chair and his parents are distracted exclaiming their joy to see him and congratulating him about his big win yesterday. Alma practically bounces out of her chair to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek – motherly joy and pride radiating off her in palpable waves - and Tessa distracts herself by mashing up pieces of a banana and slipping a little to Hannah, making sure none of the sections are too big for her to handle. She stroke her rosy cheeks and gives her a loving smile before staring resolutely back down at her eggs so as to not draw any attention from Scott.

“Hey, Tess,” _Damn it_, “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Now that Alma’s feeding Hannah mashed strawberries his attention seems to be completely on her, and she hates it. She feels like an ant underneath a magnifying glass, just waiting to be scorched.

“Me?” She looks up at him, wincing at the tension that accompanies the eye-contact. Why does he have to look so good? Why does he _always _have to look so good? Her life would be so much easier if Scott Moir had grown up to be hideous. “I’m eating.”

She forces herself to scoop up a healthy piece of her poached egg and put it in her mouth, swallowing back the surging gag reflex. Hoping that he’ll accept her excuse and leave her alone. At least long enough to get away from his parents, and preferably Korea, before forcing her to have this conversation.

She’d really rather be at home in Toronto when he breaks her heart. At least there she has Jordan and her bed and all the chocolate she wants without having to worry about a mistranslation on the candy wrappers leading to flavors she doesn’t like.

“It’ll just take a second,” He presses, his eyes boring holes into the side of her head, “Please.”

With a sigh that’s loud enough to be heard a few tables away, Tessa nods. “Okay.” She neatly wipes her mouth off on her napkin, taking her time with prim little dabs as an excuse to delay this as long as possible, before pushing away from the table and following him as he leads her across the room towards a semi-private alcove by the large stone fireplace.

The best thing would be to take charge of this conversation and steer it where she wants it to go, so Tessa opens her mouth the second they stop moving – intending to announce her imminent departure and then _literally _depart to go pack (and <strike>cry</strike>) – but Scott beats her to it, whirling around and speaking so fast she can hardly keep up.

“You weren’t there this morning.”

It’s an accusation, blunt and forceful, and Tessa immediately becomes defensive. What right does he have to expect one of his casual hook-ups to stay past the act of hooking-up? That’s not common protocol, that much she knows (he pretty much never spends the whole night anywhere), and in her opinion it isn’t fair of him to expect her to just lay there waiting for him to decide if they’re done for the night or not.

“I wasn’t tired anymore,” She says, folding her arms over her chest and stepping back from him – maintaining a respectable distance for the sake of both her heart and her sanity. If she stands too close to him she’ll either kiss him or slap him (it’s about fifty-fifty at the moment). “I got dressed and came down for breakfast. Your parents were here, we got to talking, time just flew by.”

He doesn’t need to know about the freezing three-mile walk she’d gone on first, or the tears she’d shed, or the rather long list of synonyms for stupid she’d called herself while she trudged through the snow.

Scott furrows his brow, his eyes scanning over her face once, twice, three times, before he finally responds with a small frown, “Are you mad at me?”

Tessa stops fiddling with the end of her sleeve, glancing at him again before fixing her eyes determinedly on the fire as its orange and yellow flames flicker against the dark stones. _Mad_, otherwise known as _very angry_ – that’s what he’s asking. Are you very angry with me. She supposes she is, a bit, but mostly she’s mad at herself. After all, it’s not his fault she’d been the naïve girl in his bed last night who thought she might be different from all the rest.

He looks so… sad at the prospect. Sad and confused. _Befuddled_, her brain supplies – a word she knows never fails to entertain Scott with how it sounds. It’s the perfect word for his expression right now, but somehow she knows it wouldn’t make him smile to know she’s applying it to him. She hates when he’s sad, and the urge to protect him from pain is no less strong for all her emotional turmoil, so she lies. “No.”

“It seems like you are.” He steps in close to her, lifting his hand to touch her elbow in a move that’s as familiar to her as breathing. It’s always been grounding, comforting, something they often do to each other when they sense the other needs it or when they need it themselves, but she can’t handle having him touch her right now. It’s too much. Too _intimate_.

She can’t handle anymore intimacy with Scott. _They _can’t handle it. Last night proved that.

So she retreats, nearly stumbling over a chair in her haste to get away from him, shaking her head and emphatically saying, “I’m not. I’m not, no.”

He looks like she just sucker punched him in the stomach, the color draining from his face and his hand hanging loosely by his side – twitching as if its malfunctioning now that she’s deprived it of its intended use, but she refuses to relent. The last time his hand touched her was when he was patting her on the thigh and thanking her for being better than his other offer.

The memory makes her feel sick.

“Look,” He starts, running his hand through his unkempt hair, “I know last night was new for us and unexpected, but I really think –“

“I don’t think we should talk about last night,” Tessa interrupts him, her voice resolute, shaking her head and holding up her hand between them as if she can physically stop him from speaking. The last thing she wants to hear is whatever variation of _it’s not you, it’s me, _or _I think we should just be friends_ he has memorized for his one night stands that he’s decided to use on her.

She already knows it’s him, not her, because she knows how he is with women – or, at least, how he has been since Cassandra broke his heart – and they already are just friends so there’s no point in that little speech either.

There’s no point in talking about it at all.

“What?” He stares at her, dumbfounded, clearly not used to having his flavor of the week beat him to the punch, and Tessa nods even more firmly.

“I think we should forget what happened.”

He’s speechless, and she watches in slow-motion as hurt settles over his features. His mouth gaping, his eyebrows pinching slightly in the middle, his expressive eyes looking at her like she’d just taken away his favorite toy. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” His pain hurts her too and she wants nothing more than to reach out to him, but she can’t. Because she isn’t just some toy he can use and toss aside and they can’t let this become a big deal otherwise it might destroy them. “It wasn’t a big deal, right? You were coming off a really huge win and you’d had a lot to drink and I was… well, I was there and it, you know, it felt nice so I let it get carried away when I shouldn’t have. Stuff like this ruins friendships and your friendship means way too much to me to complicate it with these complications. And all that really happened was me – you know… doing that thing to you – nothing else. That’s hardly anything. What’s a little oral between friends? Definitely not something to make a fuss over. I mean, we barely even took our clothes off.”

Scott’s eyes immediately drop to her breasts and she flushes bright red, remembering his whispered _fuck _and the way it felt to have his mouth on her there – nearly bringing her to orgasm from that alone.

_Will I ever be able to look at his mouth the same way? _It’s a pity he fell asleep before she got to experience his mouth in other places. On the list of regrets she has about last night, that’s definitely in the top five.

He’s quiet as he apparently digests everything she said, and Tessa can’t deny that as much as she tries to smother it, there’s a voice in the back of her head begging and pleading him to say, “Fuck that, Virtch, I don’t want to forget and it wasn’t nothing. I’m in love with you and I want you and nobody else.” But she knows that isn’t going to happen. He’s had years to make a move on her, if he wanted to, and she’s never seen Scott hold himself back from pursuing a woman he was interested in before.

“I guess so,” He speaks slowly, the words sounding awkward and clumsy. His eyes haven’t left her face – concern and uncertainty still written all over his - but Tessa takes his agreement as proof of her assumptions. There never was any hope that this meant something important to him, if there were he'd be fighting her on this decision.

“Great!” She practically shouts, shrugging wildly, faking enthusiasm that she doesn’t feel and trying not to throw up, “So we’ll just move on. No big deal. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

She’s really beginning to hate that word.

“So we’re good?” She looks up at him, hoping to hear the assurances in his voice that she can’t drum up inside of herself right now, and is completely taken off guard when Scott tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

Jerking away from his touch and the visceral emotional and physical response it creates, she nearly stumbles into the fireplace – catching herself on the corner of a table before she can fall onto her ass and truly embarrass herself.

_God, _when did she become so clumsy? 

“Yeah.” Scott visibly swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down and his jaw clenching in that way she normally finds wildly attractive, but right now understands to mean he’s about as far from okay as she is. “We’re good.”

“Great.” She claps her hands together like a demented cheerleader and spins around to head towards the elevators. “So I’ll see you back in Toronto.”

“You mean I’ll see you in a few hours after I do my CBC and TSN interviews with the team so that we can head over to the closing ceremonies together.”

_Damn it._ She’d completely forgotten about telling him her new flight arrangements.

Turning around slowly, Tessa starts fiddling with the rings on her left middle finger. A nervous habit that started when she was a kid before competitions and that she’s never been able to shake. “Well… No, actually.” She shifts her weight back and forth between her feet, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and bracing herself for the argument she knows is about to happen. “I’m flying back to Canada today.”

Scott stares at her, uncomprehending. “But I have you signed up as my plus one. We booked flights together for tomorrow. I don’t understand.”

"I know, but something’s come up at the office. A last minute crisis thing. I have to be back ASAP.”

“I thought you were cleared until Wednesday.” It’s half a statement, half a question, and a sure sign that Scott isn’t about to say, “Have a safe flight!” and let her go. Damn him.

“Plans changed. Mr. Van Dyke took on a new client and I guess it’s a pretty big case. Morris sent me an email and said I was needed back in the office as quickly as I could get there.” She frowns apologetically and presses the button with the arrow pointing up on the wall, desperately praying for a quick escape from this conversation and her lies.

There is a big case back home, and she has received emails from Morris, but it’s not something a paralegal needs to rush back for. Especially not one day early on a two-week vacation. But it’s the best lie she has and so she’s sticking to it.

She just needs to go _home_.

Away from this foreign land and its foreign eggs and the best friend who feels more foreign to her now than he ever has before.

“But they know you’re in Korea with me.” He’s still pushing, following her towards the elevators and demanding answers, and so she lashes out – using whatever she can think of to force him to stop pressuring her about this.

“This is my job, Scott. My career. I’m sorry that I can’t be there with you tonight, but I’ve been here for everything else and then some,” She points out, her voice short, and she can see the guilt washing over him as her words sink in. Comprehension finally dawning along with acceptance.

“You’re right,” He grimaces apologetically and she sighs in relief, allowing him to squeeze her upper arm in silent apology, “I’m just greedy for your company, I guess. I’ll see you in Toronto.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Scott holds his arms out for a hug and, in an attempt to prove that everything really is fine between them and she totally in no way is freaking out over what happened and no, she’s not mad at him, Tessa steps into it – hugging him as quickly and impersonally as she would a business colleague. It’s awkward and obvious, but it’s the best she can do right now given how fresh her memories are of his body being wrapped around her in other ways.

“Are you sure we’re okay?” He asks one more time, that wary expression never leaving his eyes, and she breaks out her best and brightest smile as she steps into the elevator – desperate to convince him and get started moving on and putting this whole experience behind her.

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Just making sure.”

“We’re totally okay, Scott.” She smiles again, hoping it looks genuine and that he can’t tell just how close she is to crying. “Go have breakfast with your family. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Okay. Bye, Tess.”

With a small wave the doors close and she collapses back against the cool metal wall, hot tears breaking free and streaming down her cheeks – falling onto her floral shirt like droplets of a warm Ontario summer rain.

She’s not sure she’ll ever be totally okay again.

****

“So let me get this straight,” Jordan’s pause is heavy as she sets her wine glass down on the coffee table, completely ignoring the rerun of _House Hunters International _playing quietly in the background even though it’s one of her favorite episodes, “Scott drunkenly climbed into bed with you using the excuse that he wanted a, and I quote, ‘nap and a snuggle,’ and that wasn’t an immediate red flag that something was about to happen?”

Tessa swallows the rest of her own glass and sets it down on the coaster beside Jordan’s, wishing she’d had the foresight to bring the bottle with her when they relocated from the kitchen to the living room. It’s hard enough thinking about what happened on her own, but it’s infinitely worse hearing Jordan going over it out loud. “To be fair,” She starts, wincing at the look in her sister’s eyes and the additional secret she’s about to have to spill, “It’s not like cuddling is unusual for us. I didn’t think anything of it at first.”

Jordan shakes her head, huffing out a disbelieving little sound under her breath, “In a bed, though, Tess? What else could you have thought he wanted other than sex when he cuddled up to you _in the middle of the night_? ”

“Well…” Tessa fiddles with some loose fluff on the sleeve of her white sweater, pulling the little bits away from the fabric and rolling them between her thumb and index finger while avoiding looking at Jordan as understanding slowly dawns on her face.

“Are you serious?” She splutters, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt before propping her elbow against the top of the couch and leaning her head against it, burying her fingers in her short cropped hair, “How often have you two been sharing a bed like that?”

“Um…” Tessa swallows, still avoiding her gaze. “Not that often.”

“But you have shared a bed before? Oh my god –“ Jordan holds up her hand to stop Tessa from replying, closing her eyes as if to ward herself against the revelation she’s just had, and Tessa grabs the biggest piece of chocolate she can find from the assorted box of leftover Valentine’s candy sitting nearby and shoves it into her mouth. “All those nights you’ve spent at his place… I just assumed you were staying in his guest room.”

“I was!” Tessa cries out, wiping away the trail of chocolate that leaks from the corner of her mouth with her thumb and hastily sitting forward. “Usually... Mostly… Until he converted the room into Hannah’s bedroom and then obviously I couldn’t anymore. His couch is comfortable, but it’s not _that _comfortable.”

“Usually?” Jordan arches one perfectly styled eyebrow, ignoring Tessa’s lame attempt at defending herself. “_Mostly_? You mean to tell me that you and Scott have been sleeping together for what – _years_ – and you never said anything?”

Tessa sags backwards into the arm of the couch again, folding her arms over her chest and burying her chin in the thick neck of her sweater. “I knew you wouldn’t understand. We haven’t been _sleeping together_, we just share a bed sometimes. It’s nice. Comforting.”

_Wonderful_, her brain supplies, pulling up memory after memory of all the nights she’s spent in his bed. Enjoying the stunning views from his bedroom window, talking and laughing about everything and nothing, wearing his clothes, their hands and legs bumping against each other every once in a while during the night – his periodic touch soothing her restless urges in a way she’s never experienced with anyone else. She’s never slept better than she does on the nights she’s with him, and honestly very rarely does her mind wander into thinking something sexual. She doesn’t let it.

Jordan snorts. “Oh my god, Tess. Sometimes I think the two of you can’t possibly get any weirder and then –“

“We’re not weird!” Tessa cuts her off, squeezing her arms tighter around her ribcage – as if she can protect her precious memories from being tarnished by being labeled something other than what they were.

“Adult friends who are sexually attracted to each other do not regularly share a bed unless they’re fucking.” It’s resolute, Jordan’s statement, the confidence in her voice and posture leaving no room for argument, and she sips her wine with the quiet knowledge that what she’s said is absolutely, unequivocally correct.

Tessa protests anyway, refusing to give up even though she knows her argument doesn’t make sense to anyone besides her and Scott. “Jordan! We’re not like that! It’s totally platonic.”

“Yeah,” Jordan snorts again and finishes off her drink, rolling her eyes as she says, “That’s why in Korea you let him grope you and talk you into giving him a blow job.”

Instantly feeling the need to defend her best friend against the implication he forced her into doing those things against her will, Tessa sits up straight and glares at her sister. “He didn’t talk me into it – I offered. He was perfectly happy to… to do other things first. I _wanted _to do that for him. Besides, he isn’t sexually attracted to me. You know that, we’ve talked about it enough over the years for us both to be certain that the only thing Scott wants from me is friendship.”

“Tessa,” Jordan sighs, rifling through the box of chocolate for the piece she wants – grinning when she finds the one filled with orange crème, her favorite, “Only a rock would think that man wasn’t sexually attracted to you. The way he looks at you sometimes…”

“He doesn’t.” Tessa vigorously shakes her head, refusing to let even an ounce of hope enter her heart again. “He’s not.”

“Then why did he initiate the… whatever it was.” She waves her hands wildly around in the air for lack of a better way to describe what happened in Korea. “Two nights ago in Pyeongchang?”

“Because,” Tessa takes a deep breath, forcing herself to finally tell her sister the most important part of the story. The part that stills feels like it’s cutting at her lungs with small, methodical strokes designed to cause the most pain, two days and a thirteen-hour flight-long mental lecture later. “Because I was there in his hotel room. I was a convenient option for letting off steam.”

“I don’t believe that,” Jordan replies promptly, cutting her off with a shake of her head, “There’s no way that boy thought that about you for even a second. He can be an idiot, but he’s not _that _big of an idiot.”

“But he did, Jo. I know he did.”

“There’s just no way! I’ve known Scott as long as you have and, other than some boneheaded moments that plague the existence of every boy, he’s always worshipped the ground you walk on. There’s no way he saw you as a just an easy lay.”

“But he did!” Tessa insists again, blinking back tears and trying to make Jordan understand. _Why _would she make up something so heartbreaking if it weren’t true? Doesn’t Jordan know that if she thought for even a second Scott thought it was something special, meant something more, Tessa would have stayed in that bed with him?

“Why? Because he fell asleep afterwards? It’s lame and disappointing, I agree,” Jordan lets out a little laugh and continues, “But the poor guy had just left all his energy out on the ice – I think you can cut him some slack for needing a quick siesta after having an orgasm.”

“It’s not because he fell asleep. I don’t care about that.”

“What then?”

Tessa swallows around the painful lump in her throat. “It’s what he said before he fell asleep.”

“I thought you said he was really complimentary?”

“He was,” She groans, feeling the chocolate and wine she’d just ingested threatening to make its way back up her esophagus, “Up until he said, ‘that was so much better than hooking up with that other girl.’”

Jordan goes deadly silent. The only sound in the room the whispers from the TV and Tessa’s sniffles. Her face growing darker and darker until finally she murmurs through gritted teeth, “He said what?”

“Yeah. That’s how I know he was just using me.” Wincing at her own harsh choice of words, Tessa quickly clarifies, “Not _using _me, because he’s not like that, but that’s how I know it meant nothing to him.”

“Hang on – you mean to tell me that Scott, Scott Moir, the man who’s been in love with you since you were kids – spare me your rebuttals, Tess, I’ve heard them all – actually told you to your face that he had other options that night, but decided to go with you. Like he’d done you some sort of fucking _favor_!?” Jordan shoots up off the couch and starts pacing back and forth in front of the TV, clenching and unclenching her hands like she’s in desperate need of a target to hit.

When her furious gaze lands on the picture of the three of them at the lake when they were kids that hangs as part of the collage on their wall among other pictures with family and friends, she promptly marches over to it and rips it down – tossing the offending photo face-down on the coffee table in disgust.

“It was already pretty bad,” Tessa grimaces, staring at the back of the picture and almost feeling guilty about its displacement, “But it sounds even worse when you say it.”

“Please tell me you slapped him upside the head and then stormed out of there.”

“No! Of course not. I already told you that he fell asleep and I left. I stayed on the couch between his and Hannah’s rooms and then left for a walk in the morning before he could wake up and find me there.”

“But you must have spoken to him. At least to tell him why you weren’t flying back with him today like you’d planned.” Jordan sits back down on the edge of the couch, perching as if ready to pounce at the drop of a hat.

“Yeah. He cornered me downstairs at breakfast and wanted to know why I’d disappeared.” Tessa nibbles at her bottom lip, trying not to think about the look on his face when she’d refused to let him touch her. How sad he’d been that morning – sad and disappointed. Almost veering towards devastated when she’d told him she would be leaving early.

Guilt intermingles with regret and heartbreak, and Tessa digs a tissue out of her pocket to blow her nose and hide the tear that escapes the corner of her eye.

“Did he apologize?” Jordan asks sharply, without any hint of sympathy. Not that Tessa expects it from her. Jordan has very strict definitions about what is and isn’t acceptable behavior from people and she’s more than willing to tell off anyone who misbehaves - from her clients to other lawyers to fellow dancers at her favorite barre studio – so it comes as no surprise that she’s furious at Scott. Perhaps moreso than Tessa is herself.

“No. He didn’t really say much about it other than to ask if I was upset and if we were still okay.” Any hope she’d had of an apology had flown out the window the second he’d asked if she was mad at him. Clearly he didn’t see anything wrong with what he’d said before falling asleep.

“What did you say?”

“I told him I thought we should forget it happened.”

“_Tessa!” _Jordan runs both hands down her face in exasperation.

"What?” Tessa pops another piece of chocolate into her mouth in the hope that it will counteract any impending bile before folding her arms over her chest again. “Like you said, you and I both know Scott pretty well. He’s one of the most determined people I’ve ever met. When he sets his mind to something, he does it. Do you really think if he wanted me to be more than his friend he wouldn’t have done something about it by now?”

“You still shouldn’t have let him off so easy!” Jordan insists, “You should have told him that what he said hurt your feelings – let him know what an asshole he was.”

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I don’t want him to think it meant something more to me if it meant nothing to him – it might change things and I like our friendship how it is. We’ve got a good thing going here, picking fights over nothing will only cause problems.”

"I hate this!” Jordan flings her arms out to the side again as she stands up. “I’ve only seen you cry over a guy maybe twice in my life and now all you’ve done since getting home from Korea is cry over the ‘nothing’ that happened with Scott. I’m gonna kill him.”

“Jordan, no!”

Jordan laughs humorlessly and shakes her head. “Metaphorically, of course. Even _I _don’t think I could get myself let off on murder charges, but in this instance it might be worth the risk.”

“_Jordan_.”

“You’re my baby sister, Tess. Nobody fucks with my baby sister, least of all some entitled-asshole-slash-supposed-best-friend who seems to think he can take whatever he wants from you without any consequences.” She drops back down onto the couch much closer this time and gathers Tessa up in her arms, holding her close in a tight hug that Tessa only resists for a second before sinking into.

“But he didn’t take –,” She protests weakly, “I gave. Willingly.”

“Under false pretenses,” Jordan throws back, rubbing comforting circles into Tessa’s shoulder, “You thought he was finally reciprocating your feelings. It’s not a fair situation and he deserves at least a black eye. Maybe two. Call Jeff and Chiddy – I’m sure they’d agree with me. They’d probably even hold him down while you administered the appropriate punishment.”

Tessa smiles slightly at that. She knows they would. But it wouldn’t be right. “It’s not Scott’s fault that I misunderstood. I knew he’d been drinking, I should have stopped it – I should have asked him what he was thinking before I agreed. I just… my body can’t help but be attracted to his. His offer was too good to refuse at the time.”

If their encounter in Korea has taught her anything, it’s that she’s utterly helpless to resist the offer of any physical affection from Scott, even when she knows it’s a bad idea. Heaven help her if he should ever decide he wants her again – she’d probably be powerless to resist even though her brain would be screaming at her that it would only end with another broken heart.

The peril of wanting someone for so long is that all rational thought flies out the window at even the barest hint they might want you back.

“I hate when you make excuses for him,” Jordan sighs, “Let’s just fry the guy and fuck off to France or something. We’ll buy that house.” She gestures to the TV screen where a couple is touring a gorgeous home in the south of France, one that she and Jordan have always dreamed of owning and being able to have girls’ weekends at with their mom and friends, and they both sigh longingly.

“And what will we do for work?” Tessa asks, grateful for the change of topic and perking up at the thought of escaping for a while.

“We’ll find something to do. Pastry taste-testers, maybe.”

“And wine?”

“Of course.” Jordan nods solemnly, her head bumping against Tessa’s. “Virtue Sisters Pastry and Wine Quality Control Services. There, we even have a company name already.”

Tessa giggles and lets go of Jordan, sitting back to wipe away the rest of her tears and smile. “I like this plan. When can we go?”

“Right now! Bon voyage, ma petite soeur!” Jordan shouts, enthusiastically clapping her hands, and they both start laughing. 

Eventually she reaches out and takes Tessa’s hand, clasping her fingers and offering a small smile, “But seriously, if you’re not going to put him in his place, or let me do it for you, then you at least need some distance. Because, Tess, sharing a bed with him _isn’t _normal, and you’re only making it harder for yourself pretending that it is.”

"I know. I’ll stop doing that.” Tessa sighs, her fingers subconsciously grazing the fading marks he left behind on her neck as she quietly mourns the shift in their relationship that she knows must happen now for their own good.

“Will you stop seeing him for a while? I think it would be good for you. Maybe go on some dates in the meantime. Meet new people. There are 1.5 million men in this city, at least one of them must be comparable to the _magnificent _Scott Moir.” Jordan squeezes her hand with a teasing smile, and Tessa squeezes back, although she shakes her head.

“I can’t stop hanging out with him. I told him everything was fine and I don’t want him to suspect anything unusual. But I promise, no more sleepovers, and I’ll work on putting up better boundaries.”

“Good.” Jordan nods, satisfied with that answer, and then turns the volume back up on the TV so that they can continue watching. Visibly relaxing now that she feels like everything has been appropriately resolved, oblivious to Tessa’s continuing struggle.

She knows Jordan is right. Things can’t possibly stay the same now. For her own sake, she needs stricter boundaries and better rules for what is and isn’t acceptable behavior with Scott, but implementing them is a whole new story. Putting up new walls between them might be the hardest thing she’s ever done, and it will be a miracle if she can pull it off without Scott noticing.

But she has to try.

****

Tessa cries out as scalding hot coffee spills all over the front of her pink blouse, soaking through the thin silky fabric and burning her chest. She hastily grabs at her shirt and pulls it away from her body, trying desperately to keep the mess from doing any real damage to her tender skin, and in doing so knocks the tall stack of paper she’d just finished organizing off her desk with her elbow – sending it crashing onto the floor in complete chaos.

“Oh for _fuck’s _sake!” She mutters under her breath, releasing her cooling shirt and kneeling on the floor to start picking up the mess. “This day can go to hell.”

“Excuse me? Did you just tell me to go to hell?”

Tessa jerks her head up to look at the person standing above her, an apology already forming on her lips, and in the process smacks it against the side of her desk.

“Oh my god, Tessa,” Her friend and coworker Heather drops to her knees, her teasing smile replaced with a look of concern, “Are you alright?”

“It’s just a bump,” Tessa winces, rubbing at the spot on the side of her forehead and wishing she could float away in the nearest large body of water and never be seen again – what is the temperature of Lake Ontario this time of year? “I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t just mean the knock on the head, I mean in general.” Heather starts picking up some of the loose papers, rebuilding the pile on Tessa’s desk. “You’ve been a bit… clumsier than usual.” She gestures at the stain on Tessa’s shirt and the bump on her head and the pile of papers on the floor around them, as if Tessa needs the reminders. “Not just today, but for the past few weeks. Is there something on your mind?”

“It’s just this case.” Tessa waves her off dismissively, grabbing one chunk of paper that managed to stay relatively organized in the fall and setting it aside. “It’s more stressful than anything we’ve dealt with before.”

(It’s not just the case that’s been getting to her, but Heather _really _doesn’t need to know about her personal issues.)

Heather snorts and stretches her arms, cracking her neck as she tilts it from side to side. “You can say that again. But if it’s too much, you really should considering asking for a break –“

“No,” Tessa cuts her off, biting her tongue by accident and grimacing at the taste of iron that fills her mouth, “I don’t need a break. I just took a two week vacation to Korea not too long ago. It wouldn’t be fair for me to take any more time off right now.”

"I’m just saying that it’s understandable if you’re feeling overwhelmed. We all are. You need an outlet – something to take your mind off work for a little while.” Heather reaches out and gently pats her knee, and Tessa can sense the looks of a few of their other coworkers being thrown their way. The watchful gazes of the other paralegals and junior level lawyers tracking their conversation with about as much subtlety as a freight train.

Has _everyone _noticed her struggles lately? Do they all think she’s cracking under the stress? _I can’t let them have that impression of me. That would set a terrible precedent if I want to work her after law school. _Squaring her shoulders, Tessa brushes away Heather’s hand. “I’ll be fine, Heather, really. But I appreciate your concern.”

“Well, at least consider taking the rest of the afternoon off. Maybe ask if you can finish your work from home today. That might help.”

“I’ll think about it.” Tessa smiles politely and tucks the strands of hair that have come loose from her bun behind her ear, praying that she doesn’t look nearly as disheveled as she fears.

“Good. And let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“You have quite enough on your plate,” Tessa laughs, “But thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry about your shirt – it was a cute one.”

“Thanks, me too.”

With another smile Heather gets up and heads back towards her desk, leaving Tessa to grab the last few remaining papers on her own. It’s mortifying to know that people have been, and still are, watching her and noting her extra clumsiness lately – probably labeling her as weak and fragile under the pressure of such a big case – and Tessa feels her cheeks heating up as she clamors back into her chair.

It’s not the case that’s the problem. If it were she could shrug it off with a nice hot bath at the end of each day and an extra doughnut or two on the weekends. No, the problem is her very attractive, very oblivious, one hundred percent frustrating best friend.

She’s been trying to create boundaries, just like Jordan told her to – no longer sleeping over, turning down lunches, running from any scenario in which they find themselves alone for longer than thirty seconds – but it’s as if the more she tries to create space the more determined Scott gets to eliminate it. Always cheerful and friendly, acting overjoyed to see her, dropping in unannounced at her office to whisk her away to lunch or bring her something homemade to eat (she always was a sucker for his cooking). It’s maddening.

And it would be so much easier to go back to normal if he didn’t keep _looking _at her.

Dark, heated looks that make her think… make her feel… well it doesn’t matter how they make her feel, what matters is that he keeps doing it and it’s messing with her head. Making her want things that she knows she’s not allowed to want.

What’s even worse is that her favorite way of unwinding after a long day, an activity she could _really _use to help handle the stress she’s under, has been totally ruined by him now. No matter what she does, the tricks (or toys) she uses, she can’t find release anymore without images of him popping up inside her head at the _worst _moments. Fueling and foiling her orgasms in equal measure.

It’s so _frustrating! _

She slams her palm down on her desk as she huffs in annoyance – landing right on top of an upturned thumbtack.

“Shit!” She shouts as the sharp pin pricks her hand, clamping her mouth shut as quickly as she can to be quiet, but not quick enough to avoid earning wary looks from a few more of her coworkers. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she continues muttering, “Shit, shit, shit,” as she wipes away the blood – holding her hand up by her head as she digs around in her drawers for a Band-Aid.

Heather was right, she is being clumsier than usual, and there’s no way she’s going to be able to get anymore work done in the office today. Not with a wet shirt and bleeding hand and a temper ready to go off at any second. She needs a change of clothes and the comfort of her own home and some peace and quiet to focus on work without the stress of wondering what her coworkers might be gossiping about her.

Plus, working from home will provide a handy excuse for cancelling on Scott for dinner tonight. She’s not sure she could handle spending time with him in her current condition. She’d probably either scream at him or jump him – she’s not sure which.

It’s better not to risk it.

“Tess?” There’s a knock on her bedroom door, followed by Jordan’s head peeking around the corner, and Tessa pushes her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose as she peers up at her sister.

“What’s up?”

“You’ve been in here for hours. Have you stretched? Had any water? Eaten anything?”

Tessa looks at the clock at the corner of her computer screen and her mouth drops open in surprise. It’s late, far later than she’d expected, and she’s been working away for the better part of five hours without so much as a twitch from her current position curled up on her chair. That explains the ache in her legs and the grumbling noises coming from her stomach.

“Sorry, Jo. I guess time got away from me.”

“Come downstairs and eat something. Dom invited me over to watch a movie so I’ll be leaving soon, but I want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself before I go.”

“Oooh,” Tessa taunts as she stands up and follows after her sister downstairs, “This would be, what, your fifth date? Things are getting pretty serious.”

“Hardly,” Jordan snorts, “But he’s fun to spend time with and I like listening to his accent so –“ She shrugs and Tessa rolls her eyes behind her sister’s back. For all Jordan’s aplomb in the courtroom, committed relationships scare her to death.

“Well I hope you have a good time tonight.”

“What will you do? Go back upstairs and keep working?”

“Probably. I’d like to get ahead on my work for tomorrow and prove I’m up to the challenge on this case. I don’t want anyone at work thinking I can’t handle myself.”

“I’m sure nobody thinks that.”

Tessa hums noncommittally at Jordan's statement, thinking about her many disasters today alone that would prove otherwise, but choosing to keep them to herself.

“Weren’t you supposed to go to Scott’s tonight?”

“Too much work to do. I had to cancel. Do we have any pizza left?”

Jordan raises her eyebrows at the obvious deflection, but thankfully doesn't call her out on it. “No, I gave the last of it to Stella when she was here last night.”

“Damn.” Tessa pulls open the fridge and stares dejectedly at the contents – or rather, lack thereof – inside. You’d think at least one of the Virtue sisters would have inherited some sort of culinary gene, but sadly they all seem to have gone to Casey, with none left for the other three siblings. Between she, Jordan, and Kevin their home back in London had almost burned down more than a handful of times over the years.

(In her defense, nobody had ever told her you couldn’t put out a grease fire with water!)

The doorbell rings and Jordan leaves to answer it, and Tessa sighs dramatically as she reaches for the almost-empty carton of eggs. Poached eggs on toast will have to do tonight until she can drag herself to a grocery store tomorrow and restock. A less than thrilling prospect.

Maybe she should invest in one of those meal plan companies that ships pre-packaged food to your house and all you have to do is the minor prep work. Jordan would probably go in on it with her and then they could start eating _actual _dinners instead of constantly scrounging around for whatever’s easiest to prepare.

Tessa flicks the button on the stove to start heating up the water for the eggs and grabs a couple slices of wheat bread for the toaster, distantly noting the sound of Jordan greeting whoever’s at the door (_does she sound angry? It sounds like she’s telling someone they aren’t welcome here…_), before rifling around through the cupboards for a jar of apricot jam. She could use a little extra sweetness tonight to get her through the rest of her workload. Maybe if she’s lucky she’ll find more chocolate buried in the cupboard, too.

“I think I’d really like to talk to Tessa.” The voice at the door makes Tessa freeze, the jar in her hand almost slipping and crashing onto the counter before she makes a miraculous last-minute save and sets it carefully aside, far from the edge where it could come to harm.

_Scott, _her brain finally supplies, _Scott’s here. But we cancelled tonight. Why is he here? He didn’t ask if he could come over. I’m not dressed for this! Who cares if I’m not dressed nice – this is Scott. Just plain old normal best friend Scott. He won’t care. Oh _SHIT_ – he’s alone with Jordan! _

That last thought has her careening towards the front door, slipping across the hardwood in her fuzzy socks and almost sliding into a wall as she runs to intervene before Jordan can say anything to Scott about Korea. Tessa does not want him to know she’d confided in her sister, especially because Jordan is still furious at him on her behalf and will make it totally obvious that what happened wasn’t as meaningless as Tessa’s been trying to pretend it was.

“She’s out with –“ Jordan starts to make up some excuse, probably assuming Tessa doesn’t want to see Scott right now, but Tessa quickly intervenes.

_Everything is normal and nothing has changed!_

“Is that Scott?” She bumps into Jordan as she comes to a stop, interrupting her mid-sentence. “Of course he’s welcome here, Jojo, why wouldn’t he be? Don’t be silly!” The words fly out of her mouth as she glares at Jordan in warning.

Jordan glares back at her and the two of them engage in one of their many wordless conversations.

_What are you doing? I was sending him away for you!_

_I don’t want him to know I’m still upset._

_He deserves to be in the dog house._

_That’s my decision!_

_Tell him the truth!_

_No!_

With an exasperated sound Jordan rolls her eyes and throws up her hands. “Fine! I’m heading over to Dom’s. Text me if you need anything, Tess. I’ll be back later.” She grabs her coat off the hook by the door and brushes past Scott with a huff, purposely bumping into his shoulder as she goes and almost making him drop the pizza boxes he’s holding – making Tessa wince.

So much for subtlety and keeping secrets.

Scott audibly gulps as he shuffles from one foot to the other, sensing the tension between the three of them, and he looks so much like a kicked puppy in that moment that Tessa can’t help but soften towards him, stepping aside so that he can enter. “What are you doing here, Scott?”

He moves past her into the cozy interior of her living room and further into the kitchen to set down the food on her marble countertop, leaving her no choice but to follow. Not that she could resist following, anyway, when she knows he’s carrying two boxes of pizza from Descendant Detroit Style Pizza downtown – her favorite place. She just hopes one of them is veggie.

“I know you’re working tonight, but I also know how you can forget to eat when your head is full of law stuff, so I thought I’d bring you a pizza.” He lifts up the lid of the top box with a flourish, letting the delicious smell hit her full-force, and Tessa inhales sharply as her mouth starts to water. He _did _get her a veggie pizza. Oh, she could kiss him!

(She won’t, of course, but the temptation is definitely there.)

“You really didn’t have to do that,” She says, even as she inches closer towards the box of heavenly cheese and crust that awaits her, and Scott visibly relaxes as he grins.

“I know I didn’t _have _to.” He grabs a plate from her cupboard, moving around her kitchen like he owns the place – turning off the pot of empty boiling water as he goes - and puts two pieces of pizza on it before handing it over to her. Ignoring her half-hearted protest that she only wants one. “I wanted to. Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly developed an aversion to veggie pizza.”

“… No.” She’s already salivating, any thoughts of poached eggs or toast and jam flying straight out the window at the prospect of something so much better. It’s like he just _knew_. Some strange gift of precognition that allows him to sense when she’s hungry and in need of edible salvation.

A weird superpower, but she’s grateful all the same. It’s a comforting reminder that despite the fuck up in Korea and the pain that’s caused, he’s still Scott. Her best friend who cares about her and provides for her needs – sometimes before she even knows they exist – and who would probably walk barefoot over hot coals for her if she asked him to.

He’s still a really great guy, and she still loves him. Platonic or otherwise.

Scott grabs a second plate once he’s made sure she’s taken a bite and picks out a slice for himself, grabbing two napkins before she can ask and handing one of them over to her. “I didn’t think so. Take a break and have some dinner with me, Virtch. I feel like we haven’t had a chance to talk in a while.”

“We talk all the time,” She tentatively replies, on edge again and praying he isn’t about to try and initiate _The Talk_.

Slowly, she slides onto the barstool next to him when he pats it in offering and allows him to pour her a glass of wine, ignoring the butterflies that erupt in her stomach when he grins at her again. That dopey one he has sometimes when he thinks he’s done something particularly clever to make her happy.

“Texting and nights spent arguing with Jeff and Chiddy over what movie to watch don’t count,” He teases, tipping his glass against hers, “Cheers.”

“We engaged in the action of speech or discussion,” Tessa quips, falling back on the safety of her dictionary definitions as she takes a generous sip of her wine and bites off another piece of pizza, “That’s talking.”

“You know what I mean, Miss Oxford Dictionary.” Scott snorts, wiping a smudge of marinara sauce off the corner of his lips with his thumb and popping it into his mouth. Tessa prays to a god that she’s not sure she believes in anymore that he didn’t notice the way her eyes eagerly followed the action. “One-on-one, just us. There hasn’t been enough of that lately.”

_I can think of a few things we could do one-on-one, just us – NO! Stop it, Tessa! _She mentally screams at herself, shutting down that line of thinking before it can enter dangerous territory. The combination of a long dry-spell and Scott’s dumb grinning face popping into her fantasies every time she tries to masturbate is clearly messing with her head. _You are mad at him, remember? He broke your heart!_

That sobers her up quick.

Zeroing in on her own food again, she fiddles with the sleeve of her sweater as she recites the excuse she’d given him earlier over text. “I’ve been busy this week with work. We have a big trial coming up and it’s taking all the resources we have to prepare for it. I really have to bring my A game. Have I told you about it? It’s actually really interesting. See, it all started with some run of the mill corporate espionage –“

“I get it,” Scott interjects with a chuckle, placing his hand over hers, “I just miss you, Virtch.”

When did he learn to speak so tenderly? Warning bells start going off in her head, and Tessa quickly moves her hand out from under his and tucks it in her lap. “I’m right here.”

She hears rather than sees the way his body slouches forward with a sigh, and she can’t help but cringe when he sucks in a deep breath of air and straightens up again. It’s classic Scott-gearing-up-for-an-argument body language, and she cringes when he opens his mouth.

“But you’ve been distant since Korea. Don’t deny it, I know you have.”

Her whole body tenses up in response to his, a subconscious mirroring that she can’t help, and she looks over at him with a frown. “I thought we agreed not to talk about that.”

_Please, Scott, _she wordlessly pleads, hoping he can read the message in her eyes and will give her what she wants, _Please don’t make me talk about this. Please don’t make me hear you say you don’t love me like that out loud._

“We did,” He nods and takes another bite of his pizza, and for half a second Tessa thinks he really did understand her, but then he says, “But you also said you wanted to forget it happened and it’s clear that you haven’t. You’re upset about it.”

“Scott –“ She moves to stand up, eager to physically retreat as far away as she can from this conversation, but he places his hand on her forearm and stops her.

“And I think I know why.”

_Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck, and shit _and all the other expletives she tries not to say out loud very often. He’s going to force her to talk about this, to admit she’s in love with him so that he can let her down easy (and he will, she knows Scott. He’ll be as kind as possible about it, which will make it even worse).

She’s going to faint.

“You do?” The words come out in a croak, her throat having gone as dry as a desert in the last five seconds, and Tessa struggles not to swallow her tongue while she waits for him to continue. To drop the proverbial blade on the guillotine of her hopes and dreams.

“Yes. I made a promise to you that night and I didn’t follow through. That’s pretty shitty behavior for a friend.” He huffs out a self-deprecating laugh and steals one of the discarded banana peppers from off her plate, swapping it out for the green ones on his that he knows she likes, and Tessa is… confused.

“What are you talking about?”

Scott laughs again (a cruel trick, if he’s about to crush her heart) and waggles his eyebrows. “I’m talking about _returning the favor_.” He drags his eyes up and down her body in a blatantly obvious way, and Tessa blushes bright red and snatches her wine glass off the counter for another drink.

He can’t be serious. He can’t be – he’s not – surely he didn’t come here to – No. There’s no way he came all the way over to her place in Corktown on a Thursday night because he thinks she’s upset he didn’t go down on her after she blew him. That’s just… _ridiculous. _

“That’s not – you don’t have to do that,” She splutters, “What happened in Korea was a fluke. I’m sorry if you think I’ve been distant since then, but I’ve just been busy, I swear. This isn’t about you not returning the favor,” She blushes again, can’t help it when he’s looking at her like that, “Or whatever, I promise. Just good old-fashioned busy work schedules.”

Scott smirks and shakes his head. “Don’t lie to me, Tess. I know when you’re hiding something and I know you’ve been upset, and I know it’s because of how strongly you feel about fair play. Let me make this right.”

Tessa picks at her pizza in silence for something to do with her hands, gnawing on her bottom lip as she tries to figure him out. He has to be kidding, right? Unless he’s taken more pucks to the head than she’d thought (and she’s kept track of every injury, so she knows that’s not it), he can’t possibly really think that it’s her sense of fair play that’s making her upset. Which means he must be here for another reason and using that as an excuse.

Maybe he thinks his reputation is at stake? She’s spent enough time around him, Chiddy, and Jeff to hear the guys talking about it – knows how much Scott prides himself on being a good sexual partner. In college there had been more than a few drunken rambles when he’d come to visit her on campus about some of the tricks he’d liked to use (oh, how that had been sweet torture to hear). This has to be about that. He’s here because he doesn’t like leaving things… unfinished.

“… Just to be clear,” She starts slowly, wanting to double-check that she isn’t about to make a fool of herself by assuming he’s talking about oral sex, even if it seems pretty obvious, “When you say make this right you mean –“

“Let me eat you out,” Scott bluntly finishes her sentence for her, and Tessa nearly chokes on the pizza in her mouth, flushing with color as he laughs and pats her back.

“Oh my god.” She swallows the rest of her wine in one big mouthful and immediately pours herself another full glass – drinking half of that as well before she’s able to speak again. “This isn’t happening right now. This has be to be some sort of alternate universe. I’m going to wake up in my bed and it will be morning and this will all be a dream.”

“This isn’t a dream, Virtch,” Scott laughs, taking her wine glass out of her hands before she can drink any more, “I’m serious! We left things uneven between us and I feel like an asshole. Let me make things right.”

Tessa’s head is spinning. Here she’d been preparing for him to let her down, and now instead of giving her some speech about how they’ll always be friends he’s giving her some spiel about equality and fair play and trying to convince her to let him – what – _reciprocate_!?

“_That’s _why you feel like an asshole?” She gapes at him in disbelief. So they’re going to just bypass what he said and focus on the fact that he left her sans-orgasm as if that’s the issue here? _Seriously_?

Scott seems frustrated now, too, tugging at his hair and making it stand on end like a big poofy ball of brown fluff, and she resists the urge to pat it back down for him. “Yes! It makes it seem like I was just using you for some quick fun and that wasn’t it at all.”

“It wasn’t?” She can hardly keep up with him tonight. Apparently not only does he not understand why she felt used and upset, but he also apparently didn’t think of that night as just a night of fun. This is all such a mess!

“Never,” He says, quiet, but firm, “You know you mean more to me than that.”

Tessa finally looks back at him then, searching his face for answers. Answers as to what he could possibly mean by that statement in this context. It makes her want to hope, and hoping for more with Scott is a dangerous path. But she can tell that he means it – whatever their misunderstanding is, his intentions tonight are genuine. However misguided, he wants to make things right, and she… she wants to let him.

“So tonight…” She hesitates, gesturing awkwardly between them, “You want to –“

“- Go down on you,” He supplies again, smiling and eager, and she huffs out a funny sort of laugh she’s not sure she’s ever made before.

“Do that,” She finishes her own sentence, ignoring him and the wink he gives her, “And then we call it even and continue on as friends. Like nothing’s changed. That’s what you want to do?”

“Exactly.” He nods and her heart plummets and soars in equal measure. “It’s just like how we used to take turns buying each other hot chocolate before practice in the morning when we were kids. Give and take, remember?”

“Yeah,” She snorts derisively, “It’s just like that.” Except that this time the hot chocolate is their bodies and the consequences could be way more disastrous than a burned tongue.

“You take care of me, I take care of you,” He insists, taking her hand and smiling when she doesn’t withdraw this time – too consumed by the heated look in his eyes to pull away, “It’s what we’ve always done. Right now, I owe you one.”

This is absolutely, incontrovertibly a bad idea. She knows this, knows that the risks far outweigh the benefits, knows that her brain is screaming at her to save herself and say no, and yet her traitorous heart and body are humming with enough energy to power a small generator. 

“This is crazy,” She warns, tilting her head as she tears her gaze away from where his hand is still wrapped around hers to look up at him, “One hundred percent bonkers.”

“I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Tessa snorts again to mask her whimper and the heat that pulses between her legs and pulls away, standing up and disposing of their plates in the sink before getting out some Ziploc bags to store the rest of the pizza in the fridge for later (that's one less trip to the grocery store this week). “That’s what every guy says before you have to fake an orgasm.”

“You’ve been faking your orgasms!?” He sounds genuinely horrified, and Tessa blushes bright pink. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Was it Tommy? I bet it was. That punk always did think he was God’s gift to –“

“Scott!” Tessa slaps her hand over his mouth, half-laughing, half-shouting. “It doesn’t matter who it was. Forget I said anything.”

He pulls her hand away, but refuses to let it go – instead lacing their fingers together and stroking his thumb across the back of her hand, sending bolts of pleasure up her arm. “But you shouldn’t do that, Virtch. If a guy isn’t doing it for you, kick him out. Don’t boost his ego when he doesn’t deserve it.”

“So you’re saying you do deserve it?” She gives him a teasing smile, unable to resist, and Scott grins so brightly it’s almost blinding.

“I’m saying let me prove it to you that I do.” He rubs his thumb across her hand again, squeezing a little, and she can feel herself succumbing to his pull. She wants him. Bad. And maybe… maybe his idea will work to help them find normalcy again.

“This is crazy,” She warns again, voice solemn, but he just shakes his head.

“It makes perfect sense when you think about it.”

“Sure it does.” She laughs again, a wild, nervous sound, and downs the rest of her wine. It makes absolutely no sense at all and it’s insane and ludicrous and nonsensical and goes against everything she believes and – “Okay.”

“Okay?” He grins and lifts her hand that’s still linked with his to his mouth so that he can kiss the back of it.

“This is stupid and insane and a recipe for disaster and I have no idea why the hell I’m agreeing to it, but okay.” This can only end in tears, but at least she’ll get an orgasm out of it and the memory of what it was like to have Scott between her legs for one night of her life.

Scott lets out a cheerful “yeehaw!” that has her laughing hysterically and starts dragging her towards the living room. “Where do you want to do this?”

“What –“ She stops dead in her tracks, jerking him away from the big grey couch that he was eyeing thoughtfully. “Right now?”

She hadn’t been expecting that. Maybe she should have been, given Scott’s “I’ve made a decision, let’s get it done!” attitude, but she’d thought they’d set a date for it or something. Give her time to prepare. She hasn’t shaved her legs in almost a week and it’s been over a month since her last wax and she’d really rather shower first – maybe put on some nice lingerie. There’s a _method _to these things. Rules that must be followed.

“Of course,” He replies easily, oblivious to her inner turmoil, “No time like the present, T! Couch or bed? When is Jordan coming back?”

Tessa replies as if in a daze, “I don’t know.”

“Bed it is then,” He decides with a confident nod, “I’d really rather not get caught by your sister with my head between your legs. I’m pretty sure she could kill me, dispose of my body, and then act as her own defense lawyer in the murder trial and win.”

“That’s true,” Tessa agrees with a laugh, clenching her thighs together at his casual use of _my head between your thighs _like this is a completely normal conversation for them. She’s already so on edge this might be over embarrassingly fast once he gets started.

Without warning, Scott sweeps her up in his arms and starts carrying her up the stairs towards her bedroom, earning a loud squeal of surprise as she throws her arms around his neck and holds on tight. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Getting us to our destination.” He moves up the white wooden staircase with ease, making sure to watch her head so that she doesn’t bump it against anything and bring their night to a premature end, and heads towards her bedroom – kicking the door open with the toe of his sneaker.

_This is so hot_, she thinks, pressing her lips together to keep the thought to herself. He doesn’t need any more ego boosts right now. “By carrying me? I have legs, you know.”

“Great legs,” He readily agrees, flipping the light switch and setting her down on the floor of her bedroom before playfully slapping her ass – making her flush hot all over, “But wasn’t being carried more fun? Besides, it’s not like you’re very big. It was no trouble.”

“You’re the worst,” She groans, covering her eyes with her hand to protect herself against how attractive he looks standing in her bedroom with his hair all ruffled and looking at her like she’s about to be devoured by him.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, but it will be the first time he’s been in her bed – platonically or romantically – and Tessa tries not to let the significance of this moment get to her. She wants him there. Wants it more than she wanted that pizza or chocolate or that leopard-print coat she saw in a store window downtown yesterday. Wants his smell on her sheets and his warmth next to hers and cuddling and good morning kisses and _whoa, Tessa, that’s not what this is about_.

“No, I’m about to prove I’m the best, remember? Honestly, T, keep up.” He tickles her ribs and Tessa giggles as she bats his hand away, contorting her body to move out of his reach.

“Why am I letting you do this again?”

“Re-cip-ro-ca-tion,” He says slowly, enunciating every syllable, and Tessa slugs him on the shoulder. “Are you going to take this off?” He steps closer and tugs on the hem of her sweater, inching it up her body, and Tessa shoves his hand away again.

“Nuh-uh,” She shifts awkwardly, wrapping her arms around her chest, “We agreed that you’d do to me what I did to you. The shirt stays on.” She can’t handle being totally naked in front of him right now. She just can’t.

“You took off my shirt last time,” He points out, “_And _your shirt. There was a lot of shirtlessness, T, and frankly, I was a big fan.” Scott reaches for her again, only to pout when she swats his hand away and wiggles her finger at him.

“This is my payback, right? I get to choose how naked I am for it. Besides, I think it’s good for us to have boundaries.” _There_, _Jordan will be thrilled I’m still taking her advice_.

“Wow, the lawyer in the room trying to write rules for oral sex, I’m shocked.” Scott rolls his eyes and Tessa pretends to glare at him.

“I’m a _paralegal. _We don’t write the rules, we just memorize them.”

“But you’re _going _to be a lawyer, so it still counts. Come on, Virtch, let me get reacquainted with my new favorite part of you. It won’t take me very long.”

In a desperate attempt to stay strong, and to keep herself from asking what his previous favorite part of her was, she falls back on making a joke about their night in Pyeongchang – mimicking his words from when she’d first seen his dick. “Wow, Scott, so you think I’m short and that I have small tits. Keep digging that hole, there.”

It takes him a second to catch on, but the longer she smirks at him and waits the more she can see the wheels in his head turning – until he finally laughs and shakes his head. “No, I think you’re the perfect height for hugs and for tucking under my arm or carrying up the stairs, and that your tits are fucking amazing. So amazing, in fact, that I would very much like to see them again.”

_Shit_. He wasn’t supposed to get so sentimental and complimentary. “Maybe,” She drawls, reveling in the way Scott single-mindedly watches her pretend to lift up her shirt and the power rush it gives her, “If you’re good.” She lets the fabric fall again and bites her lip to keep from giggling at the disappointed pout he gives her.

“Is that a promise, or are you taunting me?”

“It’s a goal for you to achieve.” Tessa winks and moves towards the bed, sitting down on the edge of her fluffy white comforter. _I am so screwed_.

“Challenge accepted. Lay down.” He flicks his head towards the mattress, encouraging her to scoot backwards until she’s more comfortably situated in the middle of the bed, and she takes a moment to rearrange her pillows – tossing a few of the fancier accent ones off to the side before piling two of the regular ones up so that she can prop her head up on them.

“Is this okay?” She lays back awkwardly, folding her hands on top of her lower stomach and biting her bottom lip. “I thought it would be easier to see you like this.”

“You want to watch?” His smile is wicked as he climbs onto the bed and inches across it on his knees – not stopping until he’s kneeling between her legs and stroking the strip of skin between her fuzzy socks and the bottom of her leggings – sending the wires in her brain on the fritz. Who knew ankles could be so erotic? 

“Yes,” She admits with a blush, “Is that okay?”

If this is the only time she ever gets to experience this with him, she wants to remember every single second of it.

“Absolutely,” He grins and slips his fingers underneath the top of her socks, tugging both of them off in one quick move before balling them up and tossing them in the direction of her hamper. They miss and fall to the side, but Tessa finds she really doesn’t care about that right now. “That’s super-hot, actually. Maybe we could set up a mirror somewhere next time.”

Tessa’s heart thumps wildly inside her chest and she opens her mouth to ask what exactly he means by that comment, but before she can get the words out he swoops down and presses a heated kiss underneath her bellybutton where her sweater had ridden up – chuckling when she gasps and her hands fly to his hair. Not protesting when she holds him to her as he continues to pepper kisses all along her waistband from one hipbone to the other and back.

It’s intoxicating. A _rush_. The feeling of his soft lips as they move across her in such a slow caress. So close to where she wants him, yet neither of them overly eager for him to get there too soon. When he nips at her hipbone, she shivers and her eyelids flutter closed – unable to resist savoring the sensations he’s eliciting from her body, no matter how much she wants to watch him through the whole thing.

When he finally takes a break, his mouth centimeters from her skin, and looks back up at her, Tessa’s blown away by what she finds. His light brown eyes are fixed on her, dark and heavy, and when she grazes that spot on the back of his neck with her fingernails, he shudders in response. It’s almost hypnotic. Like there's this extra connection between them now that wasn't there before.

“Off?” He rasps, tugging at the band of her favorite black Adidas leggings, holding it away from her for a second before letting it snap back into place and laughing when she makes a noise of protest and flicks his ear in punishment.

“Off,” She agrees, arching her hips so that he has enough room.

He peels her leggings off slowly, drawing it out, and when they’re finally all the way off he tosses them after her socks – leaving her in only her sweater and underwear.

A wave of self-consciousness washes over her, and Tessa brings her legs up and presses her knees together as she says, “I hope laundry is part of this reciprocation plan.” Hoping to distract him from her partial nudity with some light banter. It’s not that she wants him to forget why they’re here or his goal for tonight, but she hadn’t really thought about… how _intimate_ it would feel.

“Do you really trust me with your laundry?” He teases, placing his hands on her knees and slowly rubbing circles into them with his thumbs, forcing her to relax and give him room to run his hands down her thighs – allowing him to open her up to his hungry gaze.

Tessa quickly glances down to see what underwear she’s wearing – something she definitely hadn’t paid much attention to when getting dressed that morning for work – and is relieved to find her maroon underwear with white polka dots and lace trim. It’s not the sexiest thing she owns, not at all, but it’s not granny-panties either so she’s counting it as a win.

“No,” Tessa gasps, expecting him to dive right in and shocked when he slides the palms of his hands down the inside of her thighs instead, pressing her legs even wider into the mattress and making her feel rather lewd and exposed, “I know you’d – ugh – you’d dye all my clothes pink or shrink them or something.”

“Huh?” He asks rather eloquently, tearing his gaze away from something (her birthmark, maybe? Did he not know about that?) on her inner thigh to look at her. He stares at her for a second before apparently remembering what they’d been joking about and replying, “Yeah, exactly. Toss the delicates in with the denim.”

“Set the cotton to dry on high heat,” She murmurs, pleased when it makes him laugh, but then almost gasping when the hot puffs of his breath ghost over her underwear – followed by the tentative touch of his fingers, right where she wants him, but without enough pressure to ease any of the ache between her legs.

Lifting her leg to his shoulder, she watches as he replaces his hands with his mouth – kissing and nipping his way up, up, up until he’s almost there. She gasps again when his mouth hovers over her center, warm and wet, and then nearly hits him when he smirks and bypasses her pussy to move down the other leg.

It’s killing her, watching him like this. The object of so many fantasies _actually _in her bed about to go down on her for the first time. And if he doesn’t get to it soon she might spontaneously combust. She moans when he gently bites just above the inside of her knee, and Scott spends an inordinate amount of time first there, then on the opposite leg in the same spot, sucking marks into her skin. Apparently liking the look of them so much he decides to create a trail up the inside of each leg.

(A thought that’s so arousing it might make her pass out.)

“Scott,” Tessa groans as he finishes up the last one on her right leg, right below the crevice where her thigh meets her center – tugging almost painfully on his hair and canting her hips towards his mouth, “Fuck! Would you just get on with it already?” She hadn’t meant to sound so demanding, but he is _torturing _her here. It feels like her whole body is on fire and he’s the only one who can put it out and if he doesn’t do it soon, there will be nothing left of her but a trembling, over-excited puddle.

“So impatient,” He tsks, grinding his hips into the mattress to seek relief for himself while providing none for her, and Tessa raises up to her elbows with a glare – fully intending to chew him out. She hadn’t tortured him when it was his turn, so it hardly seems fair for him to treat her this way – even if it does feel really, really fucking good.

But her snarky words are caught in the back of her throat when he suddenly lurches forward and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss right over her clit, licking her through her underwear.

Her loud moan echoes around the room as she collapses back onto the bed, the twinkle of satisfaction in his eye that's so_ Scott_ only fueling her arousal, and she’s driven mindless as he continues lapping at the spot with his tongue – sliding his hands underneath either side of her underwear so that he can grip it and push it tighter against her, heightening every sensation.

He focuses on that spot until her thighs are shaking, until the whimpers and moans are all blending together, until Tessa can feel her orgasm approaching. She’s almost there. So _close. _Just a little bit more and - and then he pulls away and begins peppering kisses back down her thighs again – lifting her legs over his shoulders without warning so that he has better access to the backs of them as well, nipping her ass cheeks for good measure – grinding her impending orgasm to a sudden halt. Keeping her right on the edge without letting her fall.

“What the hell!?” Tessa struggles to prop herself up again, this time only managing to get on one elbow. “Why did you stop?”

“It was getting a little intense. You seemed like you could use a break.” He smiles and shoots her a wink, and Tessa promptly thwacks him over the head with a V embroidered pillow. “Hey!”

“If you’re not going to finish the job, then I’ll do it myself. Get out.”

Scott’s jaw goes slack as he stares back at her with glossy eyes, and Tessa smirks privately to herself. _There_, let him stew on that image for a little while.

When it becomes apparent that he’s too consumed by that fantasy to continue, she prods him with her toes and lifts her hips up in encouragement. “I was kidding! Come on, Moir. Show me what you’ve got.”

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Scott grabs her underwear again, this time finally pulling them off her body and shooting them across the room like a rubber-band – making Tessa burst out in another round of giggles.

Together they watch as it hits the wall and sinks behind her dresser, before laughing even harder.

“Nice shot,” She grins, “You should have been drafted by the Raptors.”

“Nah,” He waves his hand towards the wall, dismissing her suggestion, “I’m much better with a stick than I am with balls.”

“That’s what she said.” Tessa’s laughing before the words have fully left her mouth, unable to maintain her teasing smirk for even a second – too delighted by the look of shock on Scott’s face as she turns his favorite joke back on him.

“Tessa Virtue,” He laughs, the vibrations of his body doing wonderful things to her own, “I can’t believe that just came out of your mouth. Naughty!”

"I learned from the best.” She winks at him and falls back against the pillows, and suddenly it hits her that he just threw away her underwear. Which means she’s naked from the waist down. He’s going to see her body for the first time. Sure, his face was there a second ago, but that was with the slim modesty provided by her underwear. Now it’s totally different.

“Jesus, Tess.” He spreads her legs again and she can’t help but notice how much more prominent his erection becomes in his jeans. It’s flattering, even though she’s so embarrassed she almost wants to run away. “Wow.”

“Don’t,” She groans, covering her face with her hands, “Don’t just stare at me. It’s weird.”

“It’s not staring, it’s admiring,” He corrects her, bending down to kiss the top of her mound. She gasps at the contact and slowly removes her hands so that she can meet his eyes again, not wanting to miss any of it just because she’s worried she won’t match up to his expectations.

_God_. The sight of him there again without any barriers… _wow_. Just… “Wow.” She says it quietly, running her hand through his hair and tenderly stroking the shell of his ear. It’s rare for fantasies to come true, even rarer for reality to be so much better.

“Can I continue?” He lets his lips brush against her as he tilts his head, waiting for her permission, and Tessa silently nods – capturing her bottom lip with her teeth and keeping her eyes trained on him.

He starts slowly again, gentle licks and kisses just to get her used to him being there without the barrier of fabric in the way. Following her sounds and silent signals just as she did for him – slowly increasing the pressure and urgency as her moans get louder.

Eventually he slips one finger inside of her, then two, and Tessa really loses it then – burying one hand in his hair to hold him in place while the other scrambles to lift her sweater up past her breasts – her nipples desperate for attention on top of the already magnificent way he’s making her feel.

"Does that mean I can –?” He tears his mouth away to ask, his voice full of excitement, and Tessa nods vigorously.

“Please!”

He wastes no time reaching up with his free hand and cupping her breast, running his thumb back and forth across her nipple a few times before pinching it between his fingers and tugging just as he gives her clit a particularly hard suck, and Tessa almost screams.

“Is that good, T?” He drags his tongue down to lick inside her opening along with his fingers, and she can distantly feel the bed moving as he grinds his hips rhythmically into the mattress in sync with the thrusts of her hips. “What else do you like?” 

“Ungh,” She grunts and desperately clasps his hand over her breasts with one of her own, half holding it, half crushing it to her harder, “More. Just keep going.”

“Yeah?” He sucks on her clit again and she clenches around his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Please, Scott, I’m gonna –“

"Look at me, Tess.” It takes her a second to focus, but she does and her eyes lock with his - neither of them capable of looking away even if they wanted to. With a smile he flicks his tongue against her clit and slips a third finger inside her, thrusting a few times before wrapping his lips around her and sucking hard, and the combination of that plus the way he's looking at her (and only her) has her coming with a cry – her mouth falling open and her body curling around his head, her eyelids only fluttering shut at the very last second. The hand holding his against her chest almost crushing him with the strength of her orgasm.

That last image of Scott before her eyes were forced to close will be burned on the back of her eyelids for the rest of eternity.

He brings her down from her high with gentle kitten licks, removing each finger one at a time before licking them clean and crawling up her body to collapse onto his side next to her. She almost expects him to take himself in hand and finish himself off. She wouldn’t mind, quite the opposite, in fact, she’d like to watch as he does it, but instead he wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand with a smug smile. “You didn’t fake that, did you?”

Tessa misses him by a mile when she tries to halfheartedly kick his leg.

“Wow,” She sighs, still panting. Hyper-aware of her state of disarray as consciousness returns to her, she tugs her sweater back down, making sure it’s low enough to reach the top of her thighs and hide all the parts he was blatantly staring at. “That was… unexpected.”

“Virtch,” Scott groans and flops onto his back, throwing his arm over his face dramatically, “Don’t start back up with that low expectations stuff. You’re seriously wounding my pride and making me doubt everything I ever thought about myself.”

"Sorry,” She giggles, low and throaty, stroking her fingers across his shoulder, “My brain’s a little addled at the moment.”

“See now that? That’s a compliment.” He grins dopily and rolls back onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow so that he can look down at her, “You won’t be forgetting that anytime soon.” He states confidently, swooping in to kiss the juncture between her neck and shoulder, and she blushes as reality invades the rather pleasant buzzing headspace she’d been enjoying.

“No,” She says quietly, “No, I definitely won’t.”

This idiotic, one-hundred-percent bonkers plan has ruined her for life. How could she ever be with anyone else now that she’s had this small sampling of what it’s like with Scott? If oral sex can be this explosive between them, what would real sex be like? A real relationship? The possibilities will haunt her forever, now more than they ever did before.

"So did I make things right?” He winds his finger through the loose bits of her hair that are scattered across the pillow, rubbing the silky strands with his thumb before letting them go and then repeating the process.

It’s so… unexpectedly tender that Tessa has to shake herself and force out a laugh before she can slip further into a funk, or worse, start crying. “Yeah. We’re good.”

“I knew it,” He grins, pleased with himself.

“Oh, Scott,” She half-laughs, half sighs as she shakes her head, “If only you did know.”

He rolls away and sits up, getting out of bed and looking around for his clothes, and ice floods through Tessa’s veins. Did she say too much? Is he uncomfortable?

Or worse, does he have somewhere else to be tonight?

“What are you doing?” She sits up with a frown, tucking her legs underneath herself to preserve her modesty and grabbing the accent pillow she’d hit him with to place over her lap for added protection. Preparing for the emotional blow she’s sure he must be about to deal her.

"I’m making sure I have everything before I go,” He shrugs, confirming her worst fears, “Enjoy the rest of the pizza, Virtch. I hope your work stuff doesn’t keep you up too late.” He moves as if to head towards the door, but he barely takes a step before she quietly speaks.

“You’re leaving?” She asks, her heart breaking anew. She should have known he wouldn’t stay – honestly, what did she expect? He might not like cuddling after sex as much as she does (although she’d be shocked if that were true given what she knows about him), and he definitely doesn't owe her anything. After all, she didn’t stay, either. But it still hurts.

“Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?” He turns around, raising his eyebrow at her even though his voice is gentle. “That’s what you did.”

“That was different.” Her frown deepens and she looks away, refusing to elaborate. She’s not about to reveal any feelings to him now. Not like this.

He walks back towards her, coming to a stop when his thighs bump against the side of the mattress. “Do you want me to stay?”

_What do you want!? _She wants to scream. _What do you want from me!? _

But then he smiles softly and brushes some hair behind her ear, letting his thumb graze her cheek, and she goes weak. “Well… You did bring me dinner and wine. I probably have time to watch an episode or two of _Friends_ before I get back to work, if you want.”

He grins and grabs her hand, making her cry out in surprised laughter when he tugs her onto her knees and into his arms for a hug. “You sure know the way to a man’s heart! How can I refuse?”

“I’m just saying,” She wraps her arms around his shoulders and tucks her face into his neck, smiling against him, thrilled to find that asking him to stay seems to have been the right answer, “You don’t have to go straight away, if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t want to,” He grins, lifting her the rest of the way off the bed and setting her down on her feet, making sure she’s stable before letting go, “I’ll stay and watch Friends with you as long as you let me.”

“Forever?” She half-jokes, tugging the hem of her sweater as far down the tops of her thighs as she can, bouncing on the balls of her feet and smiling hopefully up at him. _If only he knew how much I really meant that offer_.

“I think Jordan might get angry if we hog the TV forever, but slightly less than that should be fine.”

“Deal.”

Things might not be _normal_, and they might not ever be able to go back to exactly how they were before, but as Tessa slips her leggings back on she decides that maybe that's okay. Maybe now that they're even the dust will settle and they'll be able to emerge on the other side relatively unscathed. Maybe if she can learn to treasure tonight as the one-time thing it was and not expect anything more, they'll be okay. 

After all, it's not like Scott's secretly in love with her or will initiate something like this ever again. Platonic best friends is all they are and all they ever will be.


	2. if you’re under him, you ain’t getting over him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa's POV of the concert and what er... comes after. This coincides with Chapter 13 of Change Directions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! It's been a while, eh guys? Sorry about that! I hope another 17k chapter makes up for it. 
> 
> You all know the drill by now - rated E for the End.

** if you’re under him, you ain’t getting over him **

** **

"_Just admit it! Stop lying to me all the time!” Tessa hears Cassandra shout from the room next door, wincing at the harshness of the other woman’s voice. It’s not that she’s trying to eavesdrop on their private conversation or anything, but it’s kind of hard not to hear them arguing from where she’s sitting cross-legged on Scott’s bedroom floor, utterly failing to focus on the textbook spread open in her lap. _

_"What are you talking about?” Comes Scott’s equally frustrated reply, and she can picture him perfectly – the way he must be running his hand through his hair, how his jaw will clench when Cass rolls her eyes – his girlfriend’s favorite reaction to anything Scott does. This is gearing up to be one of their uglier fights and if Tessa could dissolve into the plush carpet and hide amongst the fibers, she would. _

_Actually, she’d much rather have left the second Cassandra burst into the room all misplaced fury and betrayal, but there hadn’t been a chance before she’d marched Scott into the kitchen and started screaming accusations. Scott hadn’t been able to do anything besides mouth an apology and close his door shut behind them before following her, leaving Tessa trapped. _

_"You know what I’m talking about, Scott, don’t play stupid. I come over here with dinner and new lingerie to surprise you and I find the two of you cozied up together in your bed – what am I supposed to think?” _

_“As I explained five minutes ago, finals have been hard for Tess and she needed some emotional support tonight. We were basically just hugging – I don’t see why it matters what furniture we were sitting on.” _

_“You don’t see why I’d be upset to find your ‘best friend’ wrapped up in bed with you?” Cassandra scoffs, and Tessa cringes. Yeah, maybe she has a point. But the cuddling was strictly platonic – Scott loves Cass, she doesn’t have anything to fear from his friendship with Tessa. Hell, they started occasionally sharing his bed a few years ago and nothing’s ever happened, that should be proof enough that Tessa isn’t a threat. Sure, she knows her friendship with Scott is hard for people to understand (even she doesn’t always understand it completely), but she doesn’t get why their romantic partners always have such issues with it. _

_“Don’t make air-quotes, Cass,” Scott groans, “She is my best friend. I’ve told you a thousand times that’s just how we are – it’s different, sure, but totally platonic. You know I love you.”_

_“What I know is that I’m getting real tired of dating a guy who refuses to acknowledge that he has two girlfriends.” _

Tessa groans and rolls over in her bed, grabbing one of the unused fluffy pillows and smashing it over her head to block out both the afternoon light streaming in through the windows and the memories masquerading as dreams invading her brain. She’d been trying to take a nap, dammit! Instead she can’t seem to stop thinking – even in her sleep.

Not that thinking about Scott is an uncommon occurrence in her life, but it usually isn’t so pervasive. Normally she’s quite good at keeping Scott in his pre-assigned box in her mind, their easy friendship as natural as breathing, but everything feels like its spiraling out of control.

They’d been doing so much better after Scott’s whole insane-yet-somehow-brilliant reciprocation plan. Instead of their relationship becoming more tense and awkward, it had actually worked to loosen them both up. Sure, Tessa struggled (to put it mildly) at first to stop thinking about it every time she looked at Scott, but with the help of some hastily Googled cognitive therapy techniques, she’s now able to shut her brain up the second it starts to veer into the PG-13 category around him.

(Which is, admittedly, still pretty often.)

There had been that moment after his concussion when he’d said he wanted _hot chocolate _again, the double-meaning unmistakable, but the next morning Scott acted like he’d never said it, so Tessa chalked it up to momentary insanity. Awkward, but excusable. Otherwise everything else has been pretty normal. Great, even!

And then she’d had to go and ask him to be her fake boyfriend on the world’s most awkward double-date with her boss and ruined weeks of progress.

What had she been _thinking_!?

Scott agreeing to the idea is forgivable given the head injury he’d literally just sustained before she’d asked him (Tessa swallows around the sudden lump in her throat that forms every time she thinks about that – the sight of him sprawled unconscious on the ice still haunts her every nightmare), but her suggesting it in the first place is unpardonable.

It’s as if she’d found a recipe labeled “Disaster” in which every ingredient was just more and more helpings of bad ideas and instead of throwing it in the dumpster where it belonged she’d willingly gotten out all of her shiny kitchen supplies and dived right in. And she can’t even cook!

_Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! _

The alarm on her phone starts to chime repeatedly and with a groan Tessa turns it off and forces herself to climb out of bed, giving up any hope of taking an afternoon nap. She has a date tonight – no, not a date, a _concert _with a_ friend_ – and she needs to get ready. She can’t exactly show up in Leafs sweatpants that she stole from Scott and the ratty Avril Lavigne concert t-shirt she’s owned since high school.

She’s just so tired. Tired of so many restless nights. Tired of avoiding Scott, and in return also having to avoid Chiddy and Jeff and their endless questions. Tired of missing his dopey grin and bad jokes and endless stream of constant support whenever she needs it – both verbally and with his actions. When she’d suggested taking a break, she hadn’t known how much it would feel like cutting off a piece of herself.

It doesn’t help that when she isn’t having nightmares about Scott dying in the middle of a hockey game, she’s having dreams about him. Sometimes they’re memories, sometimes they’re romantic fantasies, other times they veer into the decidedly more _adult film _category, but he stars in every single one.

She’s _exhausted_.

Who knew actually trying to get over your best friend would be so much harder than just pretending not to be in love with him.

It will be a miracle if she can manage to make herself appear awake and excited for her date with Matt now that her plan for some emergency R&R beforehand has gone down the drain, and she’s not overly optimistic about her chances. Acting has never been her forte, and despite being good at the game, her poker face leaves a lot to be desired.

Distantly she hears her stomach grumble, an uncomfortable reminder that she hasn’t eaten anything since the night before besides coffee and a granola bar, but she ignores it and heads towards the shower instead. (If Scott’s voice pops into her head unbidden and chastises her for not eating, well, she ignores that, too.) The warm water will help her relax and hopefully wash away any lingering thoughts about Scott or Cassandra or recent sporting events.

_Although, to be fair, it wasn’t really Cassandra’s fault_, Tessa admits once she’s underneath the hot spray – working sweet smelling shampoo into her hair and massaging her scalp a little more roughly than she normally would. Scott’s ex had shown up at a bad time and with probably the worst person on her arm (husband aside, he’s still the guy she cheated on Scott with) and picked at old wounds on both sides. Tessa can’t really blame her for the assumptions she’d made about the two of them and Hannah, but it had stung all the same.

When she’d initially asked Scott to be her date she’d assumed it would be easy to fake a relationship with him. Her boss would be suitably impressed, she and Scott would have fun watching baseball together, it would be a nice distraction from the fact that he’s banned from hockey due to his injury at the moment, and in the end the whole thing would be a harmless white lie that would provide a boost towards her future career at the company (she hates that part – the nepotism and flattery, but it’s often required in her line of work to get ahead). Honestly, she’d expected that faking a relationship would really mean just being themselves and letting other people make their usual assumptions without correcting them.

She’d never expected Scott to take the request and run with it like he had. Like he wanted to win the Stanley Cup for world’s best boyfriend and most adorable dad all in one day. The second he’d thrown his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple – confidently proclaiming that he couldn’t do anything without her help - her brain had jellified without any hope of recovery.

Then there had been the cuddling, the laughing, the almost-kiss, Scott calling her his “person” – something he’s done frequently in private but rarely in public - and the behavior that she could have sworn was _flirting _if she didn’t know him better. It had all added up to be too much for her weak heart to handle. Tessa had felt herself falling for him all over again.

And then, as the final nail in the coffin, Mrs. Van Dyke had brought up more children and instead of brushing it off Scott had grinned and agreed that was something he wanted, and Tessa’s never felt her heart soar to higher heights before plummeting so quickly.

Because it was all a _lie. _

The conditioner bottle flies out of her hand and falls directly onto her toes – sending a stream of colorful words that would make a sailor blush bursting out of her mouth while she picks it back up and inspects the damage to her foot. Satisfied that it’s just a bruise, she stands back up and finishes rinsing out her hair, muttering more curses when she snags the wet strands in her angry fingers, tugging harshly through the tangles. It’s ridiculous that his behavior has gotten to her like this, and only proves her point that they both needed a break. She can only imagine the nightmare their lives would be right now if that night _hadn’t _ended badly – because she definitely would have kissed him on her doorstep and then where would they be?

It doesn’t help that he keeps popping up when she least expects it. At the grocery store, at her favorite coffee shop in the morning, his face on the sports channel that they always have playing in the breakroom at work. She has no idea how he hasn’t spotted her yet, but the spy-level effort she’s put into running away every time she realized the man she was checking out was him should earn her some sort of gold medal. As should her efforts to resist texting or calling him to talk about her day or ask how he is.

_You’re supposed to be moving on, Tessa Virtue! _

Grabbing her shaving cream, Tessa makes quick work of her legs with even strokes of her razor – taking care not to cut herself through her anger. Blood wouldn’t really match her outfit tonight, even if she is wearing jeans, and she’s hoping to feel pretty and desirable, not wounded.

Not that she’s exactly planning on anything happening with Matt after the concert. Despite her love of everything oldies, Rick Astley doesn’t do much for her in the arousal department, and although Matt’s a nice guy and a good friend, she’d never complicate their friendship by adding sex into it unless she was sure first that he knew they would only ever be friends and nothing more. It’s just too complicated otherwise (her current predicament is evidence of that times a thousand).

Sure, sometimes she feels a brief burst of attraction when he laughs or does something kind, but… history tells her that Scott would never forgive her for sleeping with one of his Leafs teammates, so it’s better for everyone involved if she doesn’t let things progress past friendship.

_But_… she won’t deny that there’s a small, petty part of her that relishes the possibility of _maybe_. Thrills at the unknown possibilities that lie before her. Maybe tonight will surprise her, maybe she and Matt will hit it off in a way they never have before, and maybe… maybe she’ll have a reason to be glad she got all properly dolled up. Maybe the path to getting over Scott is already laid out in front of her.

She needs this.

_“I think it might be good for us to take a break from each other.”_

Those are the words she’d spoken to Scott only a few days ago and, as painful as it is, she still stands by them. She loves Scott, she does, more than she probably (definitely) should. But right now the best thing for both of them is a little distance, some new boundaries, and a little fresh air. She’ll go out with Matt tonight, she absolutely will _not _think about Scott at all, and then when she sees him again at Jeff’s new house in a week they’ll both be back to being their old selves – free from heartbreak or complications or messy feelings that don’t belong in their friendship.

****

“Since the break-up I’ve been taking Jax to my sister’s house so that her kids can play with him during hockey practice – which has been great and all, because my nephews adore dogs – but now it’s developed into a habit.” Matt presses the button on the crosswalk and turns to smile at Tessa. “To the point where Jax starts to bark and whine every day if we’re even five minutes late leaving. He does it on the weekend, too, at the exact same time!”

“Oh no!” Tessa laughs, adjusting the strap of her purse and following Matt across the street towards the Opera House concert venue where a growing group of people have already gathered outside. They hover at the edge of the line waiting for their turn to enter and she sighs when Matt’s hand comes up to rest on her lower back, warm and solid over her leather jacket, to help protect her from the jostling crowd.

_Different isn’t bad_, she reminds herself, leaning into his touch, _different is just different. _

“Oh no is right!” Matt chuckles. “I don’t know how he knows, because last I checked dogs can’t tell time, but somehow he does. I haven’t been late to practice in months.”

“I have noticed that you’re a very punctual person. I guess we should all be writing thank you notes to Jax for his dogged determination,” She teases, winking at him on the pun, and Matt throws his head back and laughs, the deep rumbles making Tessa laugh, too.

Matt slides his hand around to her waist and squeezes softly, grinning widely at her joke. “Nice one! That’s so embarrassing though, that I needed my dog to teach me better time management. But, hey, maybe this is a new business opportunity. I’ll loan him out to people who are always late so that he can fix them. Know anyone who might be interested?”

“I can think of one or two,” Tessa chuckles, forcing herself not to picture the most obvious person in her life who could learn something about being on time from Matt’s dog. She’s been doing so well tonight – only thinking about Scott three times during dinner and once on the walk over here (and that one shouldn’t count, since she was merely noting the difference in the two men’s gaits) – and she’s determined to keep it that way.

“What should we call it? Puppy Punctuality Pre-School?” Matt smirks and Tessa giggles, grabbing onto his bicep for support when someone bumps into her from behind and unintentionally stepping in closer to his chest. Guilt lodges somewhere underneath her left ribcage, and she leans away as much as she can without being obvious. She feels comfortable with him and appreciates the security he provides, but she’s not trying to actively encourage him, either.

“Maybe… we both know Doggy Day Care would be much too obvious. Perhaps a rhyme… Well-timed Canine?”

Matt laughs again and nods. “I like that one. Super Jax the well-timed canine! The advertising campaign practically writes itself.”

“Do you know her?” An unknown female voice cuts through the crowd, interrupting their laughter, and even though Tessa has no reason to assume it has anything to do with her something about the inquiry has her turning. She glances in its direction and finds –

Scott.

Scott is at the Rick Astley concert.

Scott is here, standing twenty feet away from her, looking as handsome as ever, dressed a little nicer than normal in one of his favorite button-down shirts, with his eyes fixed directly on Tessa.

His face is the weirdest combination of relief, shock, and something else she can’t quite define, but that makes him look a little green, and Tessa feels her heart flip-flop uncomfortably inside her chest before doubling its speed.

_What is he doing here_?! Did she conjure him up just by thinking about him a few times? The thought makes the butterflies in her stomach swoop with joy, before she turns furious. She’s trying so hard to move past her feelings – can’t the universe just cut her some slack for _once _and give her some space to get over him? Is it playing some cruel trick of fate by constantly throwing him into her path?

_Here, Tessa, here’s this impossible, ridiculous, wonderful boy that you’re going to be bonded with in a way that makes no sense to anyone else and oh yeah – instead of just being the world’s weirdest best friends, you’re going to fall irrevocably in love with him, too, but he’s not going to love you back like that so have fun!_

Grrrr! There’s no way she can ignore him now, though, not after catching his eye. It would be obvious and terribly rude and go against her nature, and, well, okay part of her _does _want to talk to him – but only for a second. Just a quick polite hello and then she and Matt can stand on the opposite side of the concert hall from Scott and pretend neither person exists for the rest of the night.

“Scott’s here.” Tessa catches Matt’s attention and jerks her head in the other man’s direction, part of her wishing that Matt looked at least a little bit peeved instead of happy to see his teammate. She could use some solidarity.

“Cool!” He grins, waving at Scott, apparently not the least bit surprised to run into a teammate at the concert of the internet’s biggest trolling device. “That’s a fun coincidence. We should go say hi.”

No, what Tessa thinks she really should do is grab Matt’s hand and drag him literally anywhere else but here before she does something stupid like throws herself at Scott. Literally, not figuratively. All of her muscles are shouting at her to run over to her best friend and latch onto him like a koala and never let go and that would be _mortifying _so they definitely need to leave before it happens.

But Matt gives her no choice, just walks straight over there will all the confidence in the world and before she even has a chance to catch her breath he’s saying, “Hey, Scott,” and greeting him with an easy smile. Tessa almost laughs humorlessly at the difference between their expressions. Matt couldn’t be more calm and collected if he tried, whereas Scott looks like he just sucked on a particularly strong lemon, his eyes jumping back and forth between her and Matt with increasing disdain. She tries not to let Scott’s obvious dismay at seeing her get under her skin, but she can’t help but feel hurt by how unhappy he looks – even if he’s trying to hide it. He’s not much better at acting than she is. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. We missed you at the team meeting on Tuesday. Babs said you were sick – I hope you’re feeling better.”

_Sick_? A rush of panic floods her body, leaving no room for anything else as thoughts of his concussion and possible lingering side effects send her brain spinning. _That explains his expression, if he’s not feeling well. Why didn’t he tell me? _“ You were sick?” She asks, butting into their conversation without preamble, “Are you alright? Is Hannah alright?” If he’s not recovering as quickly as the doctor expected, she should be there to help with Hannah so that he doesn’t have any additional stress weighing on his mind and slowing the healing process.

“I’m fine, Virtch.” Scott gives her a quick, but genuine smile, and something around her heart loosens by a fraction. “Hannah’s fine. It was just, um, food poisoning.”

She’s about to reach out for him, her hands itching with the need to touch him and reassure herself that he’s alright – to make sure that this isn’t actually related to his concussion and see if maybe she should take him back to the doctor, just to triple-check everything – but then the pretty woman by his side pats his arm and says, “I’m sorry you were sick. You’ve had a rough go of it lately.”

It knocks the wind out of her in one blow.

“Who are you?” Tessa asks with a deepening frown, glancing back and forth between the two of them and becoming increasingly certain that she doesn’t actually want an answer to that question. She hadn’t even realized he was with someone, but now that she’s sees the other girl it should have been obvious from the beginning. Of course he wouldn’t go out alone, he’s much too fond of company for that.

"Tess, this is my date, Trisha. Trisha, this is my friend, Tessa.”

Her stomach sinks like lead. Date vs. Friend. The distinction is obvious. A sudden burst of lightheadedness takes hold as she struggles to form a coherent thought. He’s on a date. A _date_. Only a week after their own date. Which, okay, wasn’t a date-date, but still – he’d wasted no time moving on. It’s a crushing blow to her ego. Their non-date must have really meant nothing to him, and he hasn’t been affected by their separation at all.

At least in Tessa’s case, Matt had asked her to the concert weeks before her conflict with Scott at the baseball game and was acting purely out of friendship. Did the timing end up being convenient in terms of Tessa needing a distraction? Sure. But it wasn’t _intentional_. Scott showing up with a date is much more pointed, and the sting is acute.

The woman is pretty, too. Totally Scott’s type and looking up at him all doe-eyed and adoring. And they’re on an actual real date, which means he probably didn’t pick her up at the bar for a one-night stand – he wants to spend time with her. Get to know her. Maybe this means his comments after the baseball game about finally being able to move past what Cassandra did have pushed him into looking for a serious relationship again. It certainly didn’t take him very long.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Trisha holds her hand out with a bright, open smile and, despite her pain, Tessa can’t help but instinctually return it. She was raised to be polite and kind, and this isn’t her first rodeo with faking it for one of Scott’s girlfriends. She’s just out of practice, that’s all.

“You, too. How long have you known Scott?”

“Not long in person, but I’ve been a fan of his for a while.” Trisha looks back up at Scott with that starry-eyed look Tessa’s seen in hundreds of women at the rink, and Tessa sucks in a breath of relief.

“Oh, you’re one of _those_.” The words slip out unintentionally, but Tessa can’t bring herself to feel bad about them. This relationship isn’t serious, and she can breathe easy. Girls he’s met through hockey don’t usually stick around very long – not once they realize he isn’t going to give them the fancy, glamorous, partying life of a celebrity that they’re seeking.

She sees Scott’s eyebrows shoot towards his hairline out of her peripheral vision, though, and she winces. Perhaps she could have tried to sound a little less jealous. The last thing she needs tonight is for Scott to find out how she feels because she got all persnickety over one of his puck bunny fans.

Scott takes Trisha’s hand as if in silent retaliation against Tessa’s condemnation, and Tessa immediately curls into Matt’s side to mask the sharp pain that lances through her chest. “Trisha is a nurse at Hannah’s doctor’s office. We met on Monday during Hannah’s check-up and hit it off.”

_Shit_. He’s making a point of proving Trisha isn’t quite as casual as Tessa had hoped, and her face falls, smile faltering. This is going to hurt so much worse now. In all of the time she’s spent thinking about their situation since Pyeongchang and everything that’s happened, somehow it hadn’t occurred to her to consider how she’d feel if he started dating someone new.

The answer is, to put it mildly, _awful. _

“Hey, since we’re all here, we should turn this into a double-date thing and all hang out.” Matt throws his arm over her shoulders, oblivious to the tension in the air, and she lets him – bringing her other hand up to rest over his chest, leaning on him for extra support and also hoping he won’t be too disappointed when she tells him that idea is horrible. There’s no way she can watch Scott flirt with someone else right now. Or, god forbid, _kiss _someone else. The handholding is painful enough.

She opens her mouth to decline just as Trisha says, “Oh! That sounds like fun!”

_Damn it_.

“Sure,” She says instead, trying to be friendly even though Matt’s solid body is quite literally the only thing holding her up right now, “We’ll have a great time together.”

“Absolutely!” Scott agrees, sealing their fate, and Tessa abandons all hope as she enters the concert hall with them that the next two hours will be anything other than hell.

Hell might have been putting it mildly.

This might be the worst date she’s ever been on. No, wait, Scott just laughed at a joke Trisha made, so this is _definitely _the worst date she’s ever been on.

Matt and Trisha are doing their best to keep the conversation flowing, and at least the two of them seem to be having a good time, which is nice, but Tessa can’t relax long enough to enjoy anything for even a second. She feels like Scott’s watching her every move – maybe he’s looking for her approval of Trisha, who knows – and it’s uncomfortable and making her feel self-conscious and she’s just so angry at this whole situation. Did he do this on purpose?

And did he _have _to pick someone who disparages her taste in Hall & Oates? That’s a battle she has never been able to resist fighting and getting heated over their musical merit is not something that puts her in the best light. Trisha probably thinks she’s a freak.

“Oh! I love this song,” Trisha beams as Rick starts singing _She Wants to Dance with Me_, recovering quickly from Tessa’s intense and vigorously argued defense of her favorite band, and practically runs away towards the stage - dancing carelessly with the rest of the crowd.

It’s a nice reprieve until Matt follows along, the two of them jumping around like nobody’s watching and belting out the lyrics like they’re living for this moment, and all of Tessa’s muscles clench involuntarily when she realizes that means she’s alone with Scott.

She glances at him from the corner of her eye and catches him smiling at the display, and her stomach lurches. Does he care that they’ve been left to their own devices? Does he wish he was out there dancing, too, without the heavy weight of Tessa by his side? Has he missed her at all? Or is he already swept up in the wonders of new romance – too enraptured by the new woman on his arm to feel any remorse over their break.

The sudden urge to confront him and know for certain if she’s the only one hurting burns white hot, and before she can stop herself Tessa hisses, “What are you doing here?” Glaring at Scott with both hands on her hips to try and look more intimidating in the hope that it will force an honest answer.

“Trisha invited me.” Scott shrugs innocently, avoiding her interrogation and staring determinedly at their companions, and Tessa scowls. 

“Oh Trisha invited you,” She sneers, folding her arms over her chest and tucking her hands underneath her armpits, chewing on the inside of her cheek, “She invited you _here_? To a Rick Astley concert? Scott, you hate Rick Astley.”

“I know,” He laughs without any real humor, eyes flashing with an unnamed emotion when he glances at her, before darting away back towards the crowd, “But when somebody asks you on a date the polite thing is usually to say yes, not criticize their taste in music.”

Tessa lets out a small breath of air at the piece of information. So Trisha is the one who asked him out – that makes her feel marginally better, but it still seems like too much of a coincidence to be believable. As a very different Rick from the one on stage would say, “Of all the gin joints in all the world…” It just doesn’t seem possible that he could have ended up at the same concert as her accidentally, but it also doesn’t make any sense why he would choose to come here on purpose. Unless he’s looking to prove a point that he can get along just fine without Tessa in his life.

Funny, she’s never thought of him as cruel before. Would never have believed he’d have it in him to be so callous and unfeeling.

“So this has nothing to do with the fact that you know I love oldies music and would be here with Matt.”

Scott clenches his jaw and glares at where Matt and Trisha are dancing closely together. _Maybe he’s jealous of Matt stealing time with Trisha on their first date_. Tessa frowns at the idea. Jealousy implies deeper emotions, and the idea of Scott already having deeper emotions makes her chest ache. When he falls, he falls fast and hard, and Tessa isn’t prepared for that yet. It’s too soon.

“I didn’t know you’d be here. You only said he was taking you to a concert. How was I supposed to know which one?”

“That’s not the point!”

"Then what is the point?”

“The point is we agreed to take a break. This is the exact opposite of taking a break. And you brought a girl.”

_Dammit Tessa! Don’t bring her up! _She hadn’t wanted to point that out. If Scott’s intention is to flaunt Trisha, she doesn’t want him to know it’s working, and if that isn’t his intention and he’s genuinely interested in the other woman, Tessa doesn’t want him to know she’s upset by it.

"It wasn’t on purpose, okay?” He runs his hand through his hair and then scowls at the hair gel that’s now stuck to his fingers, and in spite of her hurt and frustration Tessa has to bite her lip to keep from giggling. It’s not funny, but something about Scott’s boyish expression has her forgetting for half a second to be angry with him. It’s the same look he’d had on his face when he was fifteen and trying the stuff for the first time – only that had been a much cheaper brand and turned the tips of his hair white when it dried. “The second I saw you I was going to suggest we leave, but that’s when you came over and said hello. I’m surprised you didn’t just ignore me.”

He spins away and heads towards the bar at the back of the venue, grabbing a handful of napkins to clean off his hand before wadding them up and tossing them into the garbage with enough force to burn a hole through the black bag, a cloud of hurt hanging over him, thick and heavy, and Tessa marches after him – refusing to let him have the last word and twist their situation into something it isn’t. _She’s _the one who gets to be upset right now, not him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly that,” Scott snorts, shrugging her off, “It’s clear you can’t stand to be around me.”

“That’s not true!” Tessa shakes her head, vehemently denying his claim and trying to wrap her mind around the sudden one-eighty this conversation has taken. “That is _not _true. Never.” Not wanting to be around him is just… the idea is ridiculous. Of course she wants to be around him. She wants him all the time. But _he _doesn’t want _her. _Which is exactly why they needed the break in the first place.

Scott’s lead them into some sort of alcove behind the bar area at the back of the room, and while it’s not that much quieter than the main floor, it does give them enough distance not to need to yell anymore, which she appreciates.

“That’s how you’re making me feel,” He accuses, folding his arms and sagging against the nearby wall, accidentally sending a few band advertisements and a condom ad fluttering to the ground, and Tessa fights the urge to bend down and pick them all up. Now is not the time to focus on the cleanliness of someone else’s bar. 

“Scott,” Tessa sags, feeling the fight go out of her at the dejected look on his face, lifting her thumb to her mouth to chew on the corner of her nail before she can do something stupid like comfort him with a hug, “That is the _opposite _of my problem.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He waves her off, his nonchalance as fake as the numbers offering a good time scrawled across the wall in faded sharpie. Classic Scott deflection to hide when he’s really hurting. “We spend too much time together and it’s overwhelming for you. Yada, yada, yada. I heard it the first time, Tess. I’d really rather not hear it again, thanks.”

_No_. She wraps her hand around his arm as tightly as she dares without hurting him, clinging on as if she can convince him through sheer force of will. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“That’s how it sounded.”

“Scott, no.” She forcibly digs his hand out from where it’s shoved between his arm and his ribcage and takes it in hers, lacing their fingers together in their signature hold and letting out the breath she’d been holding when he doesn’t refuse her. The small press of his skin against hers immediately does wonders for both her mood and her ability to breathe deeply again.

“All week I’ve felt like you wanted to get rid of me.” His words are crushing, and Tessa’s heart breaks for an entirely new reason. So he is affected by their separation. It’s as much a relief as it is a sorrow to hear. How did everything get so mixed up?

“No!” She insists again, stepping in close enough that their toes are touching, the words coming out of her unbidden, but true. “I could never give you up, Scott.”

It’s too revealing – too honest – and she opens her mouth to take the words back or clarify somehow just as Rick Astley bursts into the first line of the chorus of his most iconic song, mimicking her words like a live-action rick roll.

Suddenly they’re both laughing. The two of them falling into each other as they dissolve into peals of full-bodied laughter that seem to be never-ending.

“Never gonna let me down?” Scott asks through his tears, and Tessa lets out the most unladylike snort – setting him off laughing all over again.

“Never gonna run around and desert you,” She nods solemnly, barely containing her giggles long enough to get the words out, and Scott pulls her in for a bone-crushing hug as if he just can’t help himself – holding onto her so tight that her toes barely touch the ground.

“I missed you, kiddo,” He murmurs into the crevice of her neck, breathing in deeply and not releasing his hold on her, even when he’s set her back down – the angle forcing him to bend slightly at the waist so that he can stay wrapped around her body. She should probably push him away, but she doesn’t.

“I missed you, too.” Tessa slips her arms underneath his denim jacket to hug him better, mirroring his position by tucking her own face into his neck, and sighs. _Missed _feels like such an understatement for the emotions she’s been experiencing. What a rollercoaster. 

“Can our break be over, T?” He pleads softly against her skin, causing goosebumps to breakout all over, “_Please_? It’s killing me.”

“Oh god,” She makes a strange noise into his shoulder at the confirmation that this has been just as hard for him as it’s been for her, and her arms inadvertently clench tighter around his ribs, “Me too. I don’t know what I was thinking. Worst idea ever.”

"I mean, one day is fine, maybe two, but _five_?” He leans back just enough to arch his eyebrow at her, his tone quickly shifting from serious to teasing, “That’s a war crime, Virtch. I should have you brought up on criminal charges.” 

The playful twinkle in his eyes is too enticing to resist going along with, and Tessa smiles as she asks, “And just what would those charges be?”

“Cruel and unusual punishment via withholding your friendship from a man who clearly needs it to stay alive. I’d ask for you to be locked away, but that would only make the problem worse.”

Tessa laughs to smother her sob at hearing out loud how much he needs her, fiddling with the buttons on his plaid shirt to hide the tears that threaten to break free. “You always have my friendship, Scott. Nothing could ever change that. I was just… a little confused, I guess, about a few things. I needed some space to clear my head.”

“But not five whole days.”

“No, five days may have been excessive.” She winks, returning his teasing smirk. “But you should know if you choose to prosecute, my sister is my lawyer and she’s undefeated in the courtroom.”

“Gah!” He pretends to gasp, “How could I forget? I rescind my claim. You’re free to go.” He drops his arms and steps backwards and they both laugh, but then – as if neither of them can bear to part even as a joke – they come back together again in another fierce hug.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Tessa tucks her head under his chin while Scott rubs his fingers up and down her spine, and a dangerous part of her wishes that she didn’t have so many layers in the way. That his hands, warm and slightly calloused from years wearing those thick chafing hockey gloves, were directly touching her skin. That they were alone and free to stay like this forever, not half-hiding in the back of a crowded room.

“Good.”

They linger there through the rest of the song, swaying to the beat, but not really dancing. Basking in the reconnection. More than a few people look at them funny, and one girl sees them, turns to her boyfriend and says in a biting accusation, “Why don’t you ever hold _me_ like that, _Steve_!?” (Tessa giggles into Scott’s chest for a long time about that) but otherwise their bubble is safe and secure and unbothered by the outside world.

It’s as close to happy as Tessa’s felt in a week and she’s dreading the second this moment comes to its inevitable end. But end it must. They can’t just stand at the back of a concert hugging all night. Not only would that look weird to everyone else, but it would be inconsiderate towards their respective dates.

_Their dates_. That’s right. There are other people in this equation now, and they both need to be respectful of that. The song ends and Tessa steps away with an apologetic smile. “We should really go find Matt and Trisha. They're probably wondering where we are.”

“Who?” Scott cocks his head, then grins when Tessa slugs him on the arm to hide how that makes the butterflies in her stomach flutter into action, no longer weighted down by misunderstandings.

“Come on.”

They find them right where they left them, now more flushed and sweaty from all the dancing, laughing and chatting happily about who knows what, and Tessa wishes she didn’t have to swap Scott back out for Matt. Now that they’ve reconciled, there’s simply no question who she’d rather spend the rest of the night with it.

"There you are!” Trisha smiles brightly as she bounces up to them, taking Scott’s hand, “I wondered where you’d disappeared to.”

“Oh, uh… We just needed a drink. It’s hot in here.” He slips his hand out of Trisha’s and points at the bar before gesturing at the crowd to point out the obvious, and Tessa follows the gesture closely – wishing she knew what Scott was thinking. What’s changed that has him suddenly acting less affectionate with his date? Or was dropping Trisha’s hand not a rejection, but merely more convenient since he’s right handed and needed that one to point?

“A drink sounds great. I’m parched!”

“Why don’t Scott and I go get some for you lovely ladies,” Matt suggests, smiling at Tessa and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she nearly bats his hand away before remembering they’re here together and he’s just being nice and it’s totally normal behavior for a date.

So then why does it feel so wrong?

“That would be very nice,” Tessa nods, mentally shaking that thought away and refocusing on the very nice man in front of her whose only crime is that he isn’t Scott Moir. He hasn’t done anything wrong and deserves her full attention.

“We’ll be right back.” Matt jerks his head with another smile and Scott follows him towards the bar.

Without either of them to talk to, an awkward silence descends over the two women, and Tessa finds herself bopping aimlessly along to the beat of the song and wondering if she’s supposed to make small talk with Trisha now, or if she’s allowed to be silent since they’re both presumably there to listen to Rick Astley.

“So how long have you and Scott known each other?” Trisha makes the choice for her, and Tessa turns to face her with the friendliest smile she can muster.

“Oh, um, practically our whole lives. We met when I was seven and he was nine and skated together for a while.” He was the most outgoing boy she’d ever met, even at that age. Skating circles around the rink in borrowed skates with black tape over them, making everyone – even the teachers – laugh at his antics. For some reason he hadn’t said no to being paired up with the quiet, introverted girl his aunt introduced him to, despite the fact that she could hardly say two words to him without turning bright red, and the rest was history.

Trisha cocks her head, giving Tessa the once-over with a new, slightly appraising look. “You played hockey?”

“No,” She huffs out a laugh at the idea, shaking her head, “Um, ice dancing.”

“_Scott _was an ice dancer?”

“Yeah,” Tessa laughs again. Most people struggle to picture Scott as anything other than a hockey player now, even his friends back in Ilderton. Sometimes it feels like she and Scott’s family are the only ones who remember those days. “Kind of hard to believe now, I know, but once upon a time he was really very good. We got all the way up to competing at the junior level before quitting.” She winces slightly at that term, doesn’t like to think of either of them as having _quit_, but saying that they retired sounds ridiculous when they were only teenagers at the time.

“Wow. I never would have guessed that. But I suppose it’s not all that surprising. He is probably the most graceful hockey player I’ve ever seen.”

“He did always say that figure skating made his hockey better,” Tessa agrees. It was one of the reasons he’d decided not to continue ice dancing. Hockey made his figure skating worse and he knew he’d have to give one of them up, otherwise he’d never reach his full potential in either sport.

“That must explain why he’s so good then. He has a secret training weapon.”

“No,” Tessa shakes her head, a soft smile gracing her lips, “It’s just Scott. He’s a born skater, whatever the sport. It’s as natural to him as walking is to us.”

“That’s great that you’ve managed to stay friends all this time. Most of my friends from childhood faded away after we graduated high school. What’s your secret?”

“I don’t know. When we decided to stop skating so that Scott could focus on hockey and I could focus on school he made it pretty clear that he didn’t want to stop seeing me every day and I felt the same way so we just… made it happen. I think like most things in life, it’s about the level of commitment you’re willing to put in.”

“Kind of like a marriage. You have to choose to put in the work.” Trisha nods, thankfully missing the way Tessa almost chokes at that comparison. The last thing she wants is to talk to Scott’s new girlfriend about their complicated friendship so early in the relationship.

Instead of answering she hums noncommittedly and looks towards the bar for saving, wishing Scott and Matt would stop talking about whatever it is that’s making Scott look so upset and come back with the drinks so that Tessa doesn’t have to manage this conversation alone.

“Have you two ever…” Trisha’s voice trails off as she gestures awkwardly between Tessa and where Scott’s leaning against the bar, and Tessa does choke then, her mind conjuring up images of Scott’s head between her legs and what he looks like when he comes.

“What? Me and – huh? No. Nope. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.” Tessa clamps her mouth shut tight. She’s never said _zilch _in her life! What is wrong with her brain? A simple no would have sufficed.

Trisha, so friendly and open before, becomes visibly more wary. “Twenty years and you’ve never… not once?”

Tessa breathes in deeply through her nose to regain her composure and shakes her head. “No. We’re not like that. We’ve only ever been best friends.”

“So you’re not in love with him?”

Genuine panic sets in, and Tessa half-giggles, half-squeaks in surprise. “What?”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you were.” Trisha shrugs and picks at the string hanging off the hem of her sleeve. “I mean, it makes perfect sense. I’ve only spent a few hours with him and I can already tell he has enough charm to woo any woman within a ten mile radius, and you’ve been with him in close proximity for a lifetime. It would take someone much, much stronger than me to resist that.”

“I’m not – Trisha, look, I know what it looks like from the outside, but –“

“It’s okay, Tessa. I’m not upset. I’m actually really glad we bumped into you tonight, otherwise I might have made the mistake of falling for the wrong guy.” Trisha smiles, resigned, and pats Tessa’s elbow, and if Tessa could force the floor to swallow her whole right now, she would. None of Scott’s girlfriends have called her out like this – usually they just sort of… put up with her. It’s jarring and she has no idea what to say or do to make this right.

“No, you’ve got the wrong idea. Scott seems happy to be here with you tonight – don’t give up on him on my account.”

“It’s fine.” Trisha waves her concerns off with a friendly smile, her jovial demeanor returning as she visibly shrugs off her disappointment. “Not all first dates lead to second ones. That’s just life. I’m going to run to the restroom before the boys get back.”

Tessa watches her go, dumbfounded. She should have known this rollercoaster night wasn’t done twisting and turning, but she’d never expected her conversation with Trisha to end up like that. None of the other girls have even met her until long, long after Scott started dating them. Is this how all of those relationships would have gone if she had been introduced at the beginning?

_Am I really that transparent? _

She tries to dance to take her mind off things, but gives up after thirty seconds of awkward bopping and marches towards the bar instead in desperate need for a drink. Or maybe two.

“Hey, are you coming back to dance? I think there’s only one or two songs left.” Tessa snatches one of the beers from Scott’s hand and pops the lid off, swallowing half of it in one long go and wondering if it would be worth it to order some bar snacks. She’s starving and her nerves are frayed almost beyond repair. “Where are the others? I thought I saw them over here with you.”

“Um… they left.” Scott shrugs and opens his own beer, and Tessa finds herself zeroing in on the way his lips press against the mouth of the bottle and how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. It’s _attractive_, and she has to tear her gaze away before she does something ridiculous like lick it.

His words catch up to her, and she looks around them in surprise. They _left_? Without saying goodbye or anything? And without their dates? Even with Trisha’s resignation fresh in Tessa’s memory, it doesn’t make sense.

“Oh…” She fiddles with the bottle cap on the counter, digging her fingernail into the grooves, and then it hits her what this means and she looks up at him curiously. “You’re not going home with Trisha then?”

“Nope!” He emphatically pops the P, sounding ridiculous and making her giggle and bite her lip to keep from smiling. There’s no sign of remorse there, no hint that he’s disappointed with where his night has ended, and that has Tessa feeling so giddy she might faint. She probably should feel guilty that she drove Trisha away, but all she can bring herself to feel is relieved.

She runs her index finger around the lip of her beer bottle, biting her lip to hide her smile. “That’s unexpected.”

“Is it?” He peers curiously at her and steps a little closer, his chest bumping up against her left arm, and she takes another drink of her beer – swallowing thickly and trying not to react to his close proximity and the heated press of his strong torso. If only she were allowed to lean into that heat – to snuggle in close and… 

“I just assumed…” Her voice trails off suggestively and she makes a half-hearted obscene gesture that has a laugh bursting out of him, the lighthearted noise filling her body up with what she can only describe as liquid sunshine. 

“You know what they say about people who assume things, Virtch,” He teases, winking at her and knocking his beer against hers with a clink. 

She knows the phrase (_it makes an ass out of you and me) _and she pretends to be offended, widening her stance and gasping, “Are you calling me an ass?”

“… No?”

“Rude!”

“I’m not!” He laughs again, throwing his arm over her shoulders and leading her towards the exit, the concert long forgotten. “You have a great ass and we should get it home.”

Tessa trips over his casual declaration about that part of her body, and Scott sets her right again with a grin.

“Can we pick up doughnuts on the way?” She asks, desperately trying to will away her blush and the urge to ask him what other parts of her body he thinks are great and if he’d like to get to know them better. (_Get ahold of yourself Tess! This is exactly what you’re not supposed to think about.)_ “I’m starving.”

“We can pick up _real _food on the way,” Scott counteroffers, “I could murder a hamburger right now.”

“Ooh!” She claps her hands together at his suggestion, already licking her lips while her stomach grumbles loudly in staunch approval of this change of plans, “From that place with the great fries – the really thick ones? And milkshakes?”

“I’d never forget the milkshakes,” He nods solemnly, returning Tessa’s grin when she beams at him and grabbing her hand to swing between their bodies as they walk down the street.

“Deal!”

The Burger Shack is a real greasy spoon type place. Filled to the brim with old linoleum and vinyl surfaces in the most garish shades, fading pictures from at least five decades ago gracing the walls, barstools with the stuffing poking out from the cracks in the pleather. There’s even an old jukebox in the corner that only plays songs thirty-one through fifty. By all rights it’s the kind of place that should have gone out of business sometime circa ninety-ninety-five, but it’s stuck around thanks to a committed local following and the fierce old woman who’d inherited it from her father, and Tessa breathes in the scent of salt and grease and sizzling meat with an ungodly level of enthusiasm.

“Is that Scott Moir coming through my door?” A woman in a red and white checkered apron steps out from behind the counter, loose strands of her braided silver hair floating around her head in disarray, and marches up to them to give Scott a big hug. “As I live and breathe. And he brought my favorite customer with him.” She release Scott and squeezes her arms around Tessa, and Tessa laughs and hugs her back.

“Hi, Winnie. How are you?”

“I’m alright as rain. How are the both of you? Still thick as thieves, I see. I heard about that concussion you got, Scott – you’ve got to take better care of yourself out there. Nobody will want to by my Moir Milkshake if you’re dead.”

“But then you could call it the Moir-bid milkshake,” Scott winks, nudging Tessa’s ribs with his elbow, and she can’t help but laugh at his awful pun.

Winnie groans loudly, rolling her eyes, and grabs Tessa by the arm to pull her away from Scott’s side, pretending to whisper but speaking loud enough for him to hear. “Why don’t you ditch this loser, Tess? Let me set you up with someone who’s actually funny.” Her eyes twinkle with mirth and Tessa laughs at the old suggestion. It’s the same offer Winnie’s been making ever since she and Scott discovered The Burger Shack six years ago, continuing to tease them both even after they became good friends and she had named her signature dessert after Scott (a blueberry milkshake with chunks of maple shortbread – number fourteen on the menu), and it never fails to garner the same reaction.

Not one to break with tradition, Scott protests loudly and slings his arm around Tessa’s waist, tucking her into his side with a bit more force than he normally would but no less enthusiasm. “Oh that’s rich, eh? Tess knows I’m hilarious, don’t you, Virtch?”

“I don’t know,” Tessa muses, tapping her chin while she pretends to think it over, and Scott surprises her by deviating from the script and tickling her ribs – making her squirm and writhe against him, erupting in peals of laughter. “Scott, no! Stop!”

"Tell Winnie I’m funny. Come on, T, I’m your best friend – defend my honor!”

“Gah! Fine! Fine!” Tessa caves immediately, already breathless from his attack and grabbing his wrists to stop him from tickling her further. “Scott is funny, Winnie, even if his jokes could use _Moir _work.”

Scott puffs out his chest and grins at them both, and Winnie just rolls her eyes and swats them both with her hand towel. “You’re a right pair, the both of you. I assume you’ll both have your usual orders?”

“Add a burger and fries to mine, please,” Tessa says, sliding onto one of the barstools while Winnie punches in their selections into her ancient machine, “I should probably have a real meal, not just chocolate ice cream.”

“That’s hilarious, eh?” Scott laughs, dropping down onto the seat next to her, turning towards her so that he has one knee propped up on either side of her body. “A real meal is just her excuse to eat more chocolate.”

“Don’t disparage my choices. I’m starving.”

Tessa pokes him in the sternum and Scott captures her hand, holding it against his chest and proclaiming loudly, “You heard the woman! Better make that order a large. T-bone needs to eat!”

“It’s nice to see fame hasn’t changed you, Scott,” Winnie chuckles, shaking her head at both of them, “You’re still _such_ a boy.”

“Why thank you, Winnie,” Scott grins, leaning over the counter and planting a kiss on the older woman’s cheek, “I take that as a compliment. Now if you could stop trying to convince my best friend to leave me, I'd appreciate it.”

Winnie huffs out a laugh and pats his arm, smiling affectionately at both of them. "I'm not sure there's a person in this world who could convince her to do that." 

They end up sitting side by side on her front steps, their meals unwrapped on their laps and a large box of fries tucked between their legs where they can share them. Tessa has the lid of her chocolate milkshake popped off so that she can dip her fries in it, occasionally trying to trick Scott into giving it a try even though she knows from experience his rather strong negative feelings about that particular combination.

“You weren’t very friendly towards Matt tonight,” She comments idly, licking some of the chocolate shake off her thumb where it had drizzled down from a French fry before popping the rest of the fry into her mouth, “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, well, he had it coming.” Scott finishes the last bite of his burger and balls up the wrapper, tossing it into the open paper bag at their feet and pumping his fist when it makes it in on the first try. “We don’t date each other’s co-workers. He broke the rule.”

“I told you,” Tessa rolls her eyes and picks up a napkin to dab the corner of his mouth where he’d smeared ketchup and mustard, “It wasn’t a date. We’re just friends. But even if it was, technically that would mean I broke the rule, not him.”

“Still,” Scott picks up his spoon and steals a scoop of her shake, grinning playfully when she pouts and tries to angle it away so that he can’t take any more. They both know he only does it to mess with her. “The point still stands. It’s too messy getting involved with people the other person works with _or _your coworkers’ close friends and family. Besides, you already have a talented, funny, not to mention good looking, hockey player in your life – why would you need somebody else?”

He waggles his eyebrows at her and Tessa giggles, but there’s something in his eyes – a pointed look that feels heavier than his joke would imply – and she swallows audibly around the next scoop of her shake. Eating too much and giving herself a momentary brain freeze.

Is he… jealous? Of her friendship with Matt? That’s not very fair. He can’t expect things to stay like this forever and neither can she. If tonight has taught her anything it’s that Scott WILL find a new girlfriend someday, and given his age and recent fatherhood the next one will probably be of the more permanent variety. It’s not fair for him to expect her to never try to find someone for herself, even if the thought of loving another man seems absurd to her at the moment.

“I’ll fall in love with somebody else someday Scott,” She says quietly before shoving three fries into her mouth at once.

_Else!? _Fuck why did she have to slip in that word! Tessa sucks in a breath and waits for Scott to catch on. To pick up on that tiny, four letter clarifier that says so much more than she ever intended, but he goes quiet. Sits there tapping his fingers on his knee, his mouth a grim line, not saying anything, while her heart starts racing like an F-1.

Tessa cleans up the food on her lap and tosses the garbage into the paper bag with his, brushing crumbs off her jeans and preparing to dash inside the second Scott asks her to explain what she meant by that statement.

Instead she watches wordlessly as he places his hand on her thigh, waiting for a rejection that never comes, and lets the heat seep in through her jeans. It’s too high to be entirely innocent, and her brain fills with static and terrified anticipation.

“But not today,” He murmurs, flexing his fingers and brushing the inseam of her pants before sliding his hand higher bit by bit until her breath audibly hitches.

She should move his hand. That’s the right thing to do here. Kindly move his hand away and change the topic to something harmless. Something that will take them back to five minutes ago when they were comfortably behaving like Virtue & Moir: Best Friends Forever. The weather has been unseasonably warm this week. The Blue Jays won their game yesterday. Justin Trudeau gave a speech about climate change and… and… and Scott’s hand just moved up another inch.

“No,” Tessa breathes, squeezing her thighs together and trapping his hand where it is, not allowing him to get any higher and hit dangerous territory, but not letting him go, either. “Not today.”

He looks at her then, eyes wide and searching, and despite the voice in her head screaming that she’s repeating past mistakes she stares back at him. He’s just so… so _Scott_. And she wants _Moir_.

Tessa mentally laughs at reusing his pun and she can feel herself beginning to smile at him with a level of blatant adoration she finds impossible to conceal.

One second he’s looking at her like he’s just had a revelation, the next his lips are pressed to hers, and Tessa stops thinking about why this is a bad idea or how their friendship is already tenuous at best right now or that their bodies need to stay far, far apart if they want to have any hope of salvaging this. Tessa just stops thinking altogether.

Because Scott is _kissing _her, and it’s everything she ever dreamed. 

His lips are a little chapped from all the nibbling he does on them when he’s nervous or uncomfortable, but still soft and warm and perfect. He tastes like salt and chocolate and something she can only define as “Scott” and Tessa sighs into the kiss, opening up underneath him and allowing him to explore to his heart’s content.

He shifts around to kneel in between her legs and Tessa whimpers when both of his hands come up to cup her face, tilting her head to get a better angle and deepening the kiss. It’s so tender while also being so incredibly hot and she clenches her knees against his hips without meaning too – pulling him in closer.

She always knew their first kiss would be explosive, and she hums in delight when she buries her fingers in his perfect, thick hair and he groans. _More of that_, she thinks with a smile, _more of this,_ _more of everything_.

Scott pulls back without warning, but he doesn’t go far. Just stares at her in wonder while they both gasp for hair – their chests heaving against each other in a way that has Tessa tingling all over. There’s a very strong chance he’s going to apologize and run away, so she does the first thing she can think of – looks directly at his mouth and licks her lips in a clear invitation for him to continue – and it works.

With another groan Scott dives in again, burying one hand in her hair while the other finds her waist.

A car loudly honks its horn three times as it drives past, its occupants shouting something filthy and not worth repeating that she’d be offended by if she weren’t so ecstatic, and Scott drags himself away to flip them the bird over his shoulder – making Tessa giggle breathlessly.

“Wow,” He huffs out a disbelieving laugh, breaking the silence, and rubs his hands up and down her thighs while trying to gather his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Tessa says softly, her joy marred by uncertainty the longer he takes to say something. She starts searching his face for signs of imminent rejection and preparing for him to start spewing nonsense about how this was a mistake – something that will never be repeated. “What… what was that for?”

“I don’t know,” He laughs and Tessa’s heart falls. Of course – of course it didn’t mean anything. Just one more thing to add to the list of mysterious, yet meaningless, Scott interactions. She just wishes he’d stop including her in his impulsive sexual urges if they’re going to all end like this. “Tess,” He takes her hands and rubs the back of them with his thumbs, apparently noticing the shift in her mood, “I just… I’ve missed you so much this past week and… you know you’re the most important person to me, right? You know how much I care about you?”

“I know, Scott,” She sighs, nodding along. If there’s one thing she’s never doubted, it’s that. And she refuses to be one of those people who get all fired up over being relegated to the ‘friend zone.’ It’s not a bad place to be, even if it hurts sometimes. She loves being his friend.

"No, I –“ He swallows thickly and Tessa looks back up at him and cocks her head, forcing herself not to get her hopes up. He’s struggling with something, and she’s not sure what. What’s so hard about saying _we should just be friends _– just rip it off like a band aid. “I want you.”

That floors her.

She’d never, ever in a million years, expected him to say those three words. Not like this, not so blatant, not echoed by the earnest expression in his eyes and falling on the heels of the most magical kiss of her entire life.

It’s not love, but it is _want_, and to know that he desires her like that is a heady feeling that sends her mind reeling.

“You do?” He nods, nibbling on his bottom lip again, and Tessa feels like she might faint. “What me how?”

“I want… to show you how important and amazing you are. I want to make you happy in… all kinds of ways. _Every _way. I want,” He sighs and looks down at where their hands are still clasped together in her lap, “I want to be your _best _friend. Forever.”

Oh.

Is that what this is? Is he feeling threatened in his position as her best friend and trying to hold onto the title however he can, and apparently thinks kissing her is the way to do it? Well, he’s not _wrong_, per se, because she obviously very much does want him back, but giving into it like this wouldn’t be right. They can’t keep being… overly physically affectionate just because he wants to be her favorite. Even if part of her desperately wants to throw caution to the wind and give in. 

"You want to be,” She hesitates, waiting until he finally looks back up at her so that she can read each emotion as it crosses his face while she seeks clarification of his meaning, “Best friends… with benefits?”

He breathes out a sigh of relief and nods, lifting one of her hands to his mouth without warning so that he can kiss the back of it. The simple romance of it sending a thrill up her spine. “Yeah. I want _you.” _

Okay, well she has to kiss him for that. Hearing the man she loves tell her that he wants her so specifically does funny things to her body and turns her insides to mush in a way that’s probably dangerous. If he knew the effect it had on her, he’d probably use his newfound powers for evil. (Like distracting her when he wants to steal the last of her popcorn or turn on _Bloodsport _for the umpteenth time.) So she keeps the kiss short, just a quick peck before pulling back so that they can’t get carried away.

“I want you, too.” Scott grins and leans forward to keep kissing her, but she places her hand on his chest to stop him and shakes her head. “But I’m not sure that’s such a great idea.”

“Why not?” His bottom lip juts out in a pout that really shouldn’t be sexy, but kind of is, a little crease appearing between his eyebrows that she wants to kiss away. Could actually kiss away, in fact, if she tilted her head up and leaned forward a few inches, but she holds back.

“Because,” She sucks in a deep breath, “We’re so close. Emotions are bound to get involved and if it’s just… if it’s just _fucking _then one of us is going to get hurt.”

There. She’s finally being a responsible adult and making choices out of self-preservation. _Well done, Tessa. It only took two months and a couple heart breaks along the way._

“Tess,” Scott chuckles and she tenses at the dismissive way he’s shaking his head, “It could never be just fucking between us. I think this will strengthen our relationship.”

Of course. _Of course _he had to pick now to pursue this. Using that dumb smile he knows she can’t resist and bumping his nose against hers like some sort of adorable puppy. Weakening her resolve by taking her to her favorite shake shack and then kissing her within an inch of her life. She’s only a human woman – how is she supposed to remain strong in the face of her desires being handed to her on a platter?

Strengthen their relationship – ha! Tessa snorts and eyes him skeptically, hoping her sarcasm will be an adequate shield against his charm. “You do?”

“I do.” His answer is earnest, without presumption, and when he speaks next it’s without any pressure or coercion. “This is totally your choice and if you tell me right here, right now, that you don’t ever want to have sex with me I promise I’ll never bring it up again. But I think we could have something really special here.”

“I do, too,” Tessa sighs. _That’s the problem. _She lets herself brush the hair away from his forehead, smiling softly when Scott leans into the action like he always does – ever eager for her affection. But she can’t give him more than this. She _can’t_. “But what he have is already so special, Scott, I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want _anybody _to be hurt.”

Because she knows, deep down, that if they do this and it explodes in their faces, not only will she be left with a broken heart, but Scott will, too. He may not be thinking about it right now – all hopped up on junk food and aroused like he is, but she knows that if they tried a friends with benefits relationship and it tanked Scott would be devastated to lose her as a friend. And he’d have to lose her, because she couldn’t handle seeing him every day if she knew him even more intimately than she does now. At least not for a long, long time.

“I don’t want to mess it up, either,” He confesses softly, and Tessa smiles regretfully and strokes his jawline with the tips of her fingers – grateful that he seems to understand why she has to say no. Her hand lingering on the shape of his lips of its own accord as she silently bids them a fond farewell.

_What were thy lips the worse for one poor kiss?_

Hers certainly will never be the same.

“Which is why we really shouldn’t.”

“I –“ Scott’s smile falls and he leans back. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He moves around to sit on the bottom step, leaning against her knee with slumped shoulders. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me to suggest it.”

Selfish? Maybe. But she can’t bring herself to be mad that he did. It was nice to pretend, even for a moment.

They sit there quietly as the minutes pass, silently watching the cars drive by while they sky grows darker and darker and the air becomes too chilly to comfortably sit outside any longer, and the ache in Tessa’s heart at having to turn him down grows more and more painful with each passing second.

It’s not fair. Why does making the right choice have to hurt so much? And if it hurts so much, is it really the right choice after all?

No, of course it is. Of course she can’t possibly consider becoming friends with benefits just because Scott realized he wants her in a sexual way. Sure, that knowledge has her body flushing all over and has her more turned on than she’s ever been in her entire life, but it’s a bad idea. They can’t head down that path. Whoever heard of platonic best friends regularly having sex and then going on to stay best friends as they marry other people? It’s just not realistic.

They can’t do it.

But… if they did do it… just once. Maybe that would be alright. Maybe it would be forgivable to give into one heated night of passion when they both know they want each other before continuing on with the status quo. It’s not the romantic ideal she’d always dreamed of with him, but it is oh so tempting. And he _wants _her. What’s a girl supposed to do with that but give in?

_No_! It’s ridiculous and a bad idea. What would Jordan say? She can hear her sister’s voice in her head as clear as day telling her all the reasons it’s a mistake to even entertain the idea of saying yes – reasons annotated with official sources and backed up by evidence and sound logic.

And yet…

“I should –“ Scott starts to move, the goodnight and goodbye forthcoming, and Tessa might be more surprised than he is when she puts her hand on his shoulder and stops him.

“Wait, don’t say goodnight yet.”

He turns around to look at her, eyes full of curiosity and fading remnants of the desire that had been there earlier, and Tessa gives up. If REO Speedwagon was in the market for inspiration for an updated version of _Can’t Fight This Feeling, _they’d have to look no further than Tessa Virtue in that moment.

Biting her lip and nodding at the sky, as if to say, “You and I both know what’s about to happen here, and we’re both going to agree not to judge me for it,” she closes her eyes shut tight and squeezes Scott’s shoulder a few times before swallowing and whispering, “Just once.”

“What?” Scott sounds shocked, and she can’t blame him.

“Once,” She repeats herself, “Just once tonight.”

He doesn’t say anything and Tessa forces her eyes open so that she can pretend to look at the stars while really evaluating his expression. Is he happy? Mad? Disgusted? Excited? She can’t tell. He just looks surprised.

Slowly, Scott kneels between her legs again, trapping her so that she can’t avoid him when he bluntly asks, “Are you talking about having sex?” Tessa presses her lips together and nods, as if not saying the words will prevent her from shouldering any blame when this inevitably goes south, but Scott shakes his head and refuses to let her get away with it. “Nuh-uh, Virtch. Use your words. I’m not doing this if you aren’t one hundred percent sure that you want to do it, too.”

_Damn it. _It’s great that he’s all about consent, but does she really have to damn herself by speaking the words out loud? _Fine. _“I, Tessa Virtue, want to have sex with you, Scott Moir. Tonight. Upstairs. In my bed. Was that clear enough?” In for a penny, in for a pound. She enunciates the whole thing like each piece is its own sentence, and with each word Scott’s smile grows until it’s so bright it has her blushing and ducking her head, punching him in the arm for good measure while muttering, “Shut up.”

_Where does he get off looking so… incandescent. _

“Just so we’re clear, Tessa Virtue,” He begins, chuckling when she tries and fails to glare at him, “You, Tessa Virtue, want to have sex with me, Scott Moir, tonight.”

“Yes, you idiot,” She mumbles, “But only tonight, okay? This is a one-time thing. For the sake of our friendship.”

Maybe this will be the perfect way to get him out of her system for good, and then once she knows what sex with him is like (maybe she’ll get lucky and it will be awful!) she can finally move on. 

“For the sake of our friendship.” Scott nods and holds his hand up with his pinky out, grinning when Tessa raises her eyebrow before linking her pinky with his and swearing on it. Just like they used to do when they were ten and keeping a secret from their coaches. Life never takes you where you expect it to.

“We should probably take this inside,” She jokes nervously, gesturing to the street and general vicinity to remind him it’s not really the most conducive place for having sex, and Scott almost makes her jump when he stands and pulls her to her feet without warning.

“Good idea. Hey, Virtch?” He tugs on her hand to stop her from opening the door just yet, forcing her to look at him. “Before we go in, I have to ask – is this like a one _orgasm _thing, or a whatever we can accomplish by midnight thing?”

Tessa laughs despite the way she can feel her face burning crimson at the wicked look in his eyes, and forces herself to tease him back instead of giggling like a school girl. “I like your optimism. It’s whatever we can do before Jordan gets home.”

“A challenge!” Scott rubs his hands together while she gets the door unlocked. “Excellent.”

She struggles to get the door open, hyperaware of Scott’s body so close to hers and distracted by how good he smells – the scent of his cologne having mostly worn off, leaving just genuine Scott behind. It’s ridiculous how much it affects her, but she doesn’t have long to dwell on it because the second she get the key twisted the right way he pushes her inside and up against the wall, spinning her around so that he can kiss her again while kicking the door shut with his foot. It slams loudly and she winces, but her concern for the doorframe is quickly eclipsed by the feeling of Scott’s entire body pressed against hers – warm and solid.

He kisses like he’s trying to make her forget her own name, dragging his lips from hers to run across her jaw, peppering kisses up and down her neck that have her whole body shivering and induce the most embarrassing little noises she’s ever made. Sounds she didn’t even know she could make.

Determined not to be left behind, Tessa slips her hands into his back pockets and squeezes, desperate for more pressure, more contact, more _everything. _Wanting this to be as good for him as it is for her.

“Jesus, Tess.” He hitches her leg up around his hip, finding a better angle, and Tessa’s eyes shoot open when the evidence of his arousal hits her center. They’re there, reflected in the mirror across the entryway, Scott’s larger frame covering her own – his hips slowly grinding into her – and Tessa nearly comes on the spot. It’s like watching her greatest fantasies playing out in real time right in front of her. Scott lifts his head from where he’d been working marks into her collarbone to catch her eye, and she flushes warm all over when he smirks knowingly. “I’m beginning to think you have a kink.”

_Well, no point in denying the obvious. _She might as well make the most of this situation, since it’s only a one-time thing. Sliding her hand underneath his jacket, she fists the fabric of his shirt and pulls both pieces of material up high enough to expose his lower back, giving her the perfect view of his muscles working as he continues to grind against her. “I’m creating new memories,” She admits, hoping he’ll think she’s teasing and not actually being honest about her ulterior motives. She wants to remember this. _God _she’s never going to be able to watch him at the gym ever again. “It’s good for your brain health.”

“Call it what you want,” He laughs and sucks another mark into her collarbone, soothing the spot with his tongue and making her shudder, “It’s fucking hot, babe. Do you want me to go down on you right here where you can see it?”

_Fuck_.

She chokes on her own tongue even as she shakes her head. Yes. Yes she very much does want that. “No! We can’t do that down here.”

“Why not?” Scott shoves her jacket off her shoulders without preamble, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor, and Tessa can’t find it in herself to mind that he’s being so careless with her clothing when he looks so utterly fuckable. Because of _her. _His hair is a wild mess from _her _fingers. His eyes are dilated from kissing _her_. He’s aroused by _her. _

Scott catches her eye while toying with the button of her jeans, and Tessa gives in completely.

“Right by the front door?” She tilts her hips forward, hoping he’ll take the invitation and biting her bottom lip when he pops the button of her fly open. _Yes. _

"I mean, we’d lock it first, obviously.”

Honestly, that’s the last thing on her mind right now, but she doesn’t want him to know how quickly she’d turned to putty in his hands. He has a big enough ego as it is. “We greet people here!” She protests even as she buries her hands in his hair and holds on tight.

“Not while doing that, I hope.” He winks at her before pushing up her shirt and licking a hot, wet stripe underneath her bellybutton, and it’s all she can do to bite back the ungodly noise that threatens to burst out of her. There’s something sort of wildly arousing about the idea of trying to carry on a conversation while Scott eats her out.

“Scott!”

"Ugh.” Tessa scrambles to stay upright against the wall as Scott laughs and stands up, looks supremely satisfied with himself even though he’s just left her totally bereft and aching. “You’re right. So uncivilized.”

“Are you making fun of me?” She shoves his shoulder, giggling when he stumbles backwards towards the stairs. _Oh_, how she wants him.

“I would _never!” _

“You’re going to pay for that!” She launches herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and hoisting her legs around his waist, trusting him to catch her. Allowing herself to satisfy her earlier urge from when she first saw him at the concert. “Now you have to carry me upstairs.”

“How is that fair?” He laughs, adjusting his grip so that she won’t fall and turning towards the staircase despite his half-hearted protests.

“You got me all hot and bothered and didn’t follow through – now my legs won’t work properly.” It’s a joke and she means to get down so that they can both ascend safely, but Scott merely laughs and hoists her up higher before starting to climb. His steps confident and sure.

“Believe me, Virtch, I intend to follow through.”

A warm, buzzing sensation fills her body from her head to her toes, anticipation palpable all the way in her fingers, and Tessa squeals when Scott starts head upstairs with careful, purposeful steps. They’re really doing this. They’re really going upstairs to have sex. She’s going to pass out.

But oh, what a way to go.

Taking advantage of the fact that he’s currently preoccupied, she starts pressing open-mouthed kisses to every inch of his neck and shoulder she can reach – stretching the neckline of his shirt as far as it will go so that she can have access to as much skin as possible. He’s lost any tan he might have had from last summer, making the few freckles he has there stand out more than normal, and she hesitates for only a second before tracing the triangle at the base of his throat with her tongue.

The only evidence that they’ve reached the top of the staircase is the way Scott presses her up against the wall and captures her lips in a searing kiss. It feels like drowning. Like being swept away by a tide that you welcome with open arms.

“Bed! Bed, Scott!” She gasps as he rucks her shirt up under her armpits and starts kissing the tops of her breasts where they peek out over her plain lavender bra. Part of her wishes she’d worn something fancier, the other part wishes she hadn’t worn one at all. But Scott doesn’t seem to mind her selection when he starts sucking on her nipple through the thin silk.

“Mmm,” He hums, the hint of vibrations enough to set Tessa’s skin alight, “Bedding Scott is a good idea.”

“Yes,” She half-agrees, half moans, eager to say whatever it is that will keep him doing _that _with his fingers, “It is a good idea. But we need a _bed._”

If she is only going to have sex with him once in her life, it isn’t going to be up against the wall in the hallway between hers and her sister’s bedrooms. That would be a goddamn waste of her very expensive, top-of-the-line mattress.

“Walls are good,” Scott murmurs, clearly not picking up on Tessa’s impatient signals. Too preoccupied with running his tongue along the band of her bra before pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses down her abs and over her bellybutton piercing. The way he flicks the metal rod with the tip of his tongue is practically _filthy _and Tessa’s core clenches around nothing. “Walls provide back support.”

“So do – guh,” Her words are cut off abruptly when he slips his fingers inside her underwear without warning and stands up so that he can swallow her moans when he presses his middle finger against her clit and rests it there. Applying gentle, constant pressure without moving.

It’s torture.

It’s _bliss. _

“Tess,” He groans, using his free hand to tilt her head and give himself more room to kiss underneath her ear, “God you’re so wet.”

She whimpers and feels her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment, but it’s all the encouragement she needs to try and move her hips. She’s wet because of him, and she refuses to be ashamed of it. He needs to _move_ – do something before she loses her mind. Or does something really embarrassing like begs.

He kisses her instead. His free hand cupping her jaw while his tongue darts inside her mouth to stroke her own. And it’s so much all at once. The dichotomy of his overwhelming, fast-paced, heated kisses with the immobility of his hand between her legs. It makes her needy in a way she’s never been before.

She breaks.

“Scott,” Tessa finally manages to tear her mouth away from his, taking in how swollen his lips are and licking her own in response before continuing, rutting wildly against his hand to try and force a reaction out of him, “Please!”

“Please what?” He smiles, slow and languid and with a level of cockiness that she should hate, but instead only turns her on even more.

“Please don’t an ass!”

She can tell he wasn’t expecting it, and Tessa can’t help but giggle breathlessly when he busts up laughing – burying his head in the crook of her neck and jostling both their bodies. She swats the back of his head as punishment for stopping, but there’s no heat behind it. Only a burst of affection that’s almost stronger than her arousal at the moment.

“I’m serious! Do something!”

“I got you, Virtch,” He nods, still chortling, “I got you.” He grins and kisses underneath her jaw and finally begins to move his fingers – slipping two inside her easily and rubbing her clit with his thumb.

_This is it, _Tessa thinks, her head falling back against the wall with a thunk that will probably hurt later and her eyelids fluttering closed, _this is how I die_.

“You’re so gorgeous, Tess. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Inside and out.”

Nope. _This _is how she dies. She comes with a soundless cry at his words – the tender honesty too much for her heart or body to handle and not spontaneously combust. Scott kisses her at one point, his fingers still working her through her orgasm as she clenches around him, but Tessa can barely reciprocate. It’s so good. _Too _good.

“Fuck,” She gasps once she’s able to open her eyes again, her spirit floating back down to earth. She’s barely cognizant enough to focus on his face when Scott pulls his hand out from her pants and lifts his fingers to his mouth, watching her while he sucks on them, and she’s obliterated once again. “Fucking fuck.”

He releases his fingers with a pop and then offers them to her, a clear challenge in his dark eyes, and Tessa knows he’s surprised, but pleased, when she opens her mouth and lets him place them inside – going to far as to wrap her lips around them and suck hard, leaving no doubt as to what else she could do for him with her mouth.

“God, Tess,” Scott gulps audibly, “You might be the death of me.”

“I hope not,” She jokes, the words garbled around his fingers, and reaches down to cup him through his pants – giving his erection a little squeeze and smirking when Scott squeaks and jerks away from her.

“Okay! That thing you were saying about beds? Excellent idea. Let’s go.”

He grabs her by the hand as she laughs at the fact that now _he’s _the impatient one, the two of them stumbling as they try to get rid of the rest of their clothes as quickly as they can. Sometimes helping (his shirt, her bra), sometimes acting as more of a hindrance, (her pants, his underwear). Until finally they’re both naked and Tessa is pushing him down onto the middle of the mattress.

“Your turn,” She smirks and crawls over him, relishing the way his eyes go wide and his fingers twitch at his side while he watches her. Scott’s a tactile person, always free and easy with his affection, quick to give and ask for hugs. Touch is his love language and also is what grounds him. Which means Tessa knows that the best way to drive him to distraction is to give him as much physical sensation as possible – in this case, biting her way down his chest and soothing each spot with her tongue. Using contrasting sharp and soft touches to draw the most delicious moans out of him.

By the time she reaches his cock he’s fully erect and leaking pre-come out of the tip, and Tessa has a flashback to the last time she’d done this for him. In a dark hotel room halfway around the world, uncertain and awkward but desperate to give him pleasure. This is so much better. Here she’s in the comfort of her own home, safe in the knowledge that he really does want her (at least physically), that he finds her beautiful and desirable. It makes her want to give him the best blow job he’s ever had. She wants to be unforgettable.

Korea, as complicated as that _interaction _was, taught her a few things about what he likes, and Tessa puts them all to use. Remembering how much he loves having the inside of his thighs lightly scratched while she sucks him deeper into her throat (it’s that love of contrasting sensations again).

“Tess,” He groans, and she never wants to hear him say her name any other way again. It makes her clench her thighs together. She double-down on her efforts, eager to make him lose control, taking the way he wraps one of his hands in her hair as encouragement to continue, but then he gently pulls her off his cock instead – his eyes clamped shut as he tries to regulate his breathing. “You gotta stop, babe, or this is gonna be over way too soon.”

“We’ve got time,” She shrugs simply and then takes him completely in her mouth again. He’s an idiot if he thinks she isn’t going to see this through all the way. Fixing her position so that she can take more of him, she reaches up his body to hold him down – his hand flying to cover hers on his chest, trapping it over his heart – and her eyes find his as she swallows around his dick.

That’s all it takes for Scott to come, and Tessa carefully breathes through her nose as she swallows it all – rubbing his chest and hip with her hands to help keep him grounded through his orgasm.

All of the muscles in Scott’s body relax simultaneously, and Tessa giggles quietly at the way he seems to turn into Jell-O before her eyes. He’s probably going to fall asleep again, but she doesn’t mind this time. It would be a badge of honor for a job well done.

Instead he grabs her arms and hauls her up his body.

“Scott!” She cries out, grasping for purchase on the headboard before she can fall over. “What are you do – Oh _fuck.” _

He gets her positioned over him, knees on either side of his head, and with a kiss on the inside of each thigh, he dives in. Lapping at her folds with gusto before latching onto her clit and sucking.

It’s all-consuming in the best way and Tessa’s barely aware of the way her hands slap the wall behind the headboard when he buries his tongue inside her cunt and starts licking at her in earnest. As if she’s the best thing he’s ever tasted and he’ll die if he doesn’t get more – one of his hands reaching between them to spread her open around his mouth, the feeling making her shiver and shake.

Take three: _this _is how she dies.

Tessa cups one of her breasts and plucks her nipple with her thumb and index finger, little jolts of arousal shooting down her body and making her gasp out loud, and then Scott’s hand is there – moving her own aside and taking over. Doing an infinitely better job than she ever could.

(She absolutely refuses to overthink about the way her body responds to him so well when it’s never been like this with anyone else. It’s entirely coincidental.)

He slips two fingers inside her next to his tongue, bumping her clit repeatedly with his nose as he laps at her, and Tessa comes harder than she thinks she ever has in her life – collapsing forward against the wall to prevent herself from accidentally smothering Scott.

“Oh,” She shuts her eyes and breathes in deep, trying to steady herself, “My,” She moves off his face with what little energy remains and collapses onto her side, ending up perpendicular to him with her legs splayed over his chest, “God.”

“Not bad, eh?” He rolls his head to the side and winks at her, his fingertips lightly stroking her oversensitive skin and making her twitch.

“Remember that thing you said about dying earlier? Something like that.”

Scott laughs and leans up on his elbow just as Tessa’s eyelids flutter closed. So much for Scott having the reputation for dozing after sex – she’s the one who’s moments away from passing out.

Which is, of course, when Scott jabs her in the hip.

“Tess, we’re not done yet.”

"I don’t think I’ll be able to come again,” She grumbles, rolling onto her side and blinking at him with a slight frown. She _wants _to. God knows she’d have marathon sex with him in a heartbeat if he asked. But she also just spent the last week not sleeping and it’s rapidly catching up to her.

Scott, however, does not seem to have the same problem. His momentary drowsiness from earlier has completely dissipated and he grins as he encourages her to lay back. “Sure you can.” He settles between her open thighs, and Tessa whimpers when she feels his erection, now fully returned, pressing against her center. “You’re Tessa Virtue – you can do anything! You’re brilliant,” He kisses her check, “And amazing,” and her other cheek, “You knocked your LSAT out of the park,” the bridge of her nose, “And I believe in you.”

Well, she’s only human. What woman could resist praises like that? If she doesn’t kiss him right this instant she’s going to cry, and that would be a total mood-killer. Instead she giggles and lefts her chin up for a kiss, feeling like the sun has settled somewhere inside her chest when he happily obliges her.

“Do you have a condom?” He murmurs against her lips, his hips beginning to slide slowly back and forth against her. She’s not even sure he knows he’s doing it, but it sends the wires in her brain on the fritz.

“In the nightstand,” She manages to gasp, clutching his shoulders and planting her feet so that she can arch up into him.

_We’re going to have sex_. A neon sign flashes against the back of her eyelids, the message loud and clear, and Tessa almost shouts the words out loud. _I’m going to finally have sex with Scott! _

He leans over her to retrieve the condom and that’s when they hear the front door open downstairs.

“Tess! Are you home? Why was the door unlocked? And why did I find a bag of garbage on the steps? And why is your leather jacket on the floor down here? Have we been robbed? The TV seems fine.”

_Shit! _At the sound of Jordan’s voice Tessa flies into action, bucking her hips for an entirely different reason to get Scott off of her so that she can get dressed. Jordan can’t catch them like this. She can’t know!

“Get dressed!” She whisper-shouts, throwing pieces of his clothes at him as she finds them, nearly tripping in her haste to put her underwear and jeans back on. “Why aren’t you moving?”

“Uh…” He stares at her for a moment, and while normally she’d take the time to catalogue just how adorably attractive his rumpled, sex-addled look is, right now she really needs him to get dressed and hide.

“Quick, Scott, seriously!” Tessa kneels down and digs around under the bed for a minute before finding his shirt and tossing it up over the bed. “She can’t know about this!”

He finally jumps into action, getting dressed in record time while Tessa fixes her hair in the mirror – cringing at how wild and messy it is – before dashing across the room to open her windows. The room smells like her and Scott and sex and if Jordan doesn’t immediately catch on to what’s transpired it will be a miracle.

Tossing the comforter across the mattress in a half-assed attempt to make the bed, Tessa barely has time to shove Scott into the chair in the corner of the room and hand him a book before diving onto the bed far away from him.

Jordan bursts through the door holding a lamp above her head and comes to a skidding halt when she sees them.

“Hey, Jo,” Tessa says with forced casualness she doesn’t feel, her heartbeat thundering in her ears, “What were you yelling about?” She glances at the book she’d grabbed for herself and blushes when she realizes it’s upside down, trying to inconspicuously turn it over before Jordan notices.

Although even right side up it’s going to be hard to explain why she’s reading the barely used cook book her Nana had left her in the middle of the night.

“Oh my god, Tess,” Jordan sets the lamp down and throws her hand over her heart, “You scared me half to death. I thought you were a robber. What’s with the mess downstairs?”

“Scott and I were eating outside and we forgot to clean up. I’m sorry.”

“Scott?” Jordan’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline when he waves at her from his spot in the corner, doing a much better job of pretending to be absorbed in the Ruth Bader Ginsberg biography she’d handed him. “What is he – I thought you two were – huh?”

“Our break is over,” Tessa shrugs, “Everything’s all good here.”

“You’re both just…” She looks back and forth between them, her surprise not fading, “Reading? At almost twelve-thirty in the morning?”

“Is it that time already?” Tessa asks, wincing when her voice comes out all high-pitched and squeaky. “Scott, you better get home to Hannah.” 

“You know what, T? You’re so right. Where did the time go?” He stands up and puts the book back on her nightstand. His body does a funny sort of jerking motion as he starts to lean over the edge of the bed and Tessa thinks for half-a-second with equal amounts of hope and fear that he’s going to kiss her, before he stops himself, and sort of stares awkwardly at Jordan. “I guess I’ll just go home. Um… bye, Tess. Thanks for,” She shoots him a look and his ears turn red, “The book. It was a great book. I’d like to finish it, sometime.” Tessa blushes bright pink at the obvious implication, and she’d could almost swear Scott’s about to smile when he says, “See ya, Jordan.”

"Bye, Scott.”

Both sisters watch him go and when they hear the front door close behind him Tessa lets out the breath she was holding. That was much, much too close.

“Have you and Scott really reconciled? I thought you were on a date with Matt tonight.” Jordan eyes the room suspiciously, her gaze repeatedly coming back to linger on Tessa and the rumpled bed, and Tessa shrugs.

“It wasn’t a date, and we bumped into Scott there by coincidence. He and I had a chance to talk, and we worked things out.”

“Coincidence, eh?” Jordan arches her eyebrow. “And you both came back here to read afterwards?”

“Yep! Reading can be a great bonding activity, um, after a separation.” The chances of that being true are slim to none, but Tessa pretends to believe it – nodding seriously at Jordan before getting up and putting her Nana’s cookbook back on the bookshelf, wondering if her favorite grandmother would be disappointed or amused to learn that her treasured recipes were being used for subterfuge.

“Uh huh,” Jordan snorts and something in her voice makes Tessa freeze, “If that’s all you were doing then Tess –“

She scrunches up her face, squeezing her eyes shut tight as if that will prevent any more questions. “Yeah?”

“Why is your shirt inside-out?”

_Crap. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer is being super glitchy and slow tonight and I was trying to get this up ASAP so I apologize for any glaring errors.


	3. yeah we’re already fools (might as well take off our pants)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa's point of view on Chapter 14 of Change Directions. A picnic, a visit to her mother, and a birthday celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is inspired by the song "Might As Well Dance" by Jason Mraz.
> 
> You can skip the end of this chapter if you're tired of the smut ;)

** yeah we’re already fools (might as well take off our pants) **

The sun is delightfully warm where it kisses Tessa’s skin, the golden heat seeping in through her thin tank top and linen capris and making her sigh with satisfaction – encouraging her to lay back even further on her elbows to soak in as much of it as possible. Toronto is finally leaving spring behind for summer, and she couldn’t be more grateful.

When Scott had suggested they get out of the downtown area for the day and head to the beach for a Sunday picnic she’d practically jumped at the opportunity – eager to escape the constant hubbub of traffic and her heavy workload, not to mention the steadily increasing stress from waiting for her school acceptance letters (neurotically checking the mailbox three times a day is not a good look for anyone). At the time they’d expected overcast skies and jacket weather for their outing, but now that the sun has burst forth and the temperature is a balmy 24 degrees, Tessa almost wishes they had gone to a clothing optional beach today instead of the more popular Woodbine. That way she could have started working on her summer tan in earnest, although… that probably would have been awkward in front of Scott.

Hannah babbles something in her little gibberish language, and Tessa turns towards her with a smile – reaching out to adjust her red sunhat and make sure it’s covering her face properly. She’s crawled all the way to the edge of the blanket and keeps grabbing at the sand like it’s the most fascinating substance she’s ever encountered, covering her chubby legs in the stuff as it falls from her fingers, and Tessa scoots closer so that she can drop a kiss on top of her head.

“Are you making a mess, Hannah-banana?” Tessa squeezes her toes affectionately, then quickly darts her hand out to stop Hannah from eating any of the sand. “Whoa! Nope, we don’t do that. Sand goes on the ground, not in our mouths.” The face Hannah makes is adorable, full of as much consternation as an eleven-month old can muster, and Tessa can’t help but laugh at her. “You’ll thank me for that someday, I promise. I know your dad’s all about hands-on learning, but somehow I don’t think he’d appreciate it if I let you make yourself sick – ingesting dirt and germs and god knows what else. Here, try this instead.” She hands Hannah the yellow plastic toy shovel they’d brought with them, and that perks her right up.

She starts slapping at the sand, sort of managing to get bits of it in the shovel with her wild movements, and then suddenly wrenches her hand high up in the air – sending a chunk of sand flying right into Tessa’s face.

“Gah! Hannah!” Tessa splutters and sits straight up, wiping carefully around her eyes to try and mitigate the damage, while Hannah giggles at all of the funny faces Tessa must be making – the noise echoed by the much deeper laughter of her father.

“What’s going on here?” Scott drops down gracelessly beside her on the blanket – nearly knocking her over in the process - and immediately picks up the toy rake to start dragging lines in the sand next to where Hannah’s digging, still chortling as Tessa wipes off her face. “I leave you alone for five minutes and come back to find my daughter covered in sand.”

“Her?!” Tessa complains, squinting to keep the tiny grains on her eyelashes from getting inside her tear ducts and shoving his shoulder, “What about me?”

“You should know better than to sit that close to a baby with a shovel, Virtch. She’s still learning to control her limbs.”

“Excuses, excuses.” She shakes her head, but can’t hide her smile, and she can see Scott grinning back at her through her blurry vision.

“Here – let me just –“ He reaches up and strokes his thumb across her cheek, brushing away some of the sand that she missed, before carefully wiping her eyelashes as well. His eyes are soft and fixed on her, and Tessa feels her body go hot for reasons that have nothing to do with the weather.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiles and drops his hand, and Tessa sucks in a breath when he surges forward. For half a second it seems like he might kiss her and her heart starts beating wildly at the prospect (here, on the beach, in_ public_?), but instead he moves slightly to the side and reaches for the blue bucket behind her back. “Sand castles?”

“Oh –“ She huffs out the air she was holding and tries to ignore the way her skin tingles from his proximity. “Sure. Yeah, we should teach Hannah how to build a proper fortress.”

“Who could teach her better than Bayfield’s sand castle champions?” Scott winks and nudges her shoulder with his own, and Tessa smiles at the memory. Somewhere in one of her photo albums is a picture of two toothy kids in over-large t-shirts and swimsuits standing in front of a sand castle half their size, grinning as if they’d just completed construction on the Eiffel Tower.

“I’m pretty sure we lost that title, oh, eighteen years ago at the next annual competition.”

“Hey, once a champion, always a champion. I still have that ribbon in a box somewhere.”

“You mean your mom still has it in her attic.”

“Same difference.” Scott’s fingers dance along her ribcage without warning, and Tessa squirms and swats his hand away with an unladylike snort. “The point is I carry our sand castle win of ’99 with great pride. I think that was the first time I’d ever won a real prize.”

“I would have never let you join my family at the cabin that summer if I knew how much winning would go to your head. Look what a monster I inadvertently created.” She shakes her head and sighs, motioning as if she’s washing her hands of him, and Scott playfully tugs on the end of her braid in retaliation – drawing it up over her mouth like a mustache and laughing when she pouts at him.

“And yet you let me keep coming with you every summer after that, so…” He pushes her hair up into her nose and Tessa’s whole face scrunches up as she bats his hand away – vigorously rubbing her nose to stop from sneezing and glaring at him while he throws his head back and laughs. Thirty years old and he can still be _such _a child.

“Clearly I must have brain damage,” She grumbles, wiggling her nose to try and rid it of the lingering tingles from his attack and prodding his leg with her toes.

“Pretty rude to joke about brain damage with a concussion victim, T,” Scott tsks, grabbing onto her foot and tickling behind her knee – holding on tight so that she can’t escape his punishment, “Wow.”

“Scott!” Tessa cries out, twisting to try and get him to let go, but he just uses his hold on her to pull her in closer so that her leg is thrown over his lap and he can switch to tickling her stomach.

“That’s pretty insensitive. I didn’t know you had it in you. The truth comes out at last.” His voice is totally calm, belying none of the humor she can see twinkling in his eyes and absolutely no sympathy for the woman he’s currently subjecting to such torture. Reaching all of her most sensitive spots with an ease that can only come from years of tickle-attacks and making Tessa roll around wildly as she tries to dodge him.

“_Scott!” _She half-shouts/half-laughs, finally managing to sit up enough to shove him hard so that he falls back onto his elbows, and Scott throws his head back and laughs, too.

It’s an appealing image – the sharp angles of his face highlighted by the sun, the long line of his neck, the stretch of his yellow t-shirt across his chest. It’s a rather garish color with a bright green logo from a local children’s charity emblazoned on the front, but she finds she doesn’t mind it so much. Right now it only seems to enhance the joy radiating off of him. It’s almost palpable – like if she reaches out she could absorb some of it just by touching him.

At that moment Tessa realizes that her leg is still slung over his waist, laying where it fell when he dropped it, and she blushes and quickly removes it – folding both of her legs underneath her body to ward off any further attacks. And to stop herself from imagining what he might do if she had moved in the opposite direction and sat in his lap. 

“You’re too easy, T.” He turns to her, smiling so affectionately she finds herself inexplicably beginning to blush. “I can’t help myself.”

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes and helps Hannah readjust her grip on the shovel. “You have always seemed to find a special thrill in teasing me. Perhaps you’re the insensitive one.”

“How can I help it when it’s so funny to hear the way you screech, ‘_Scott!’_” His voice goes high-pitched at the end, all ridiculous and breathy and sounding absolutely nothing like her, and Tessa bursts out laughing.

“I do not sound like that!” She jabs him in the stomach with her index finger, laughing harder when he grabs her hand and traps her in a game of tug-of-war to get free, nearly toppling her over onto his chest before she catches herself.

“You do. _Scott! Stop teasing me!” _He mimics again, flicking his head as if he’s flipping hair over his shoulder and throwing his free hand over his heart. “_Oh Scott, you’re just too funny when you joke and I can’t handle it – please don’t send me into one of my cute giggle-fits!”_

“You’re ridiculous!” She protests, warming at hearing him call her cute. “I’ve never said that in my life.”

“Only because you’re afraid to admit that it’s true. I _am _hilarious.” Scott sits back up and drops her hand, choosing to rest his hand on her waist instead – his fingers burning where they lay against the gap of skin between her tank top and her pants – and the rush of blood to her head leaves Tessa feeling faintly dizzy. They’ve always been very physically affectionate, but it’s felt different ever since… well just _ever since_. Especially after the weekend they helped Jeff move into his new house when Scott couldn’t seem to help but take a, well, _hands-on _approach to unpacking. It’s left Tessa feeling a mix of totally disoriented and constantly aroused.

His fingers flex, slipping underneath her shirt, and Tessa barely manages to say, “You are, occasionally, funny” in what she hopes is her normal-sounding voice.

“Occasionally!?” Scott sits back, affronted, his hand dragging down from her waist across the top of her thigh as he goes, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “Virtch! You just don’t want to admit that you’re powerless to resist my charms.”

“Ha! What charms?” She has to goad him, because if she doesn’t goad him then she might kiss him and they are on a very public beach, not very far from the volleyball courts, trying to spend a nice afternoon with Hannah. Now is not the time to get into whatever it is they’ve been doing.

“Wow. Wow. Harsh, T, and in front of my child, no less.” Scott scoops up Hannah and twists as if to turn both of their backs on Tessa and pretends to whisper – although his voice is definitely purposely loud enough for her to hear. “Don’t listen to Tess, Han, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I blame heatstroke.”

“Heatstroke,” Tessa snorts, “It’s not hot enough for that out here. You’re teaching your daughter flawed science. Better give her back to me before you start trying to convince her the earth is flat or something equally preposterous.”

“Oh, because you think you’re a better teacher?” Tessa levels him with a look and Scott resists for a second before pretending to sigh and give up and handing Hannah over to Tessa – who happily takes her with a smile and a kiss on one of her rosy cheeks. “Okay, that’s fair. Although for the record I know the earth is a trapezoid, Virtch, I’m not dumb.” He winks and holds up his hands to try to imitate that shape with his fingers, although they end up looking like a heart more than anything. “Hannah, for your own good we’re gonna keep Tess. She’s super smart so you have to listen to everything she teaches you, but don’t listen when she says I’m not funny.”

“I promise to take my role as educator seriously.” Tessa raises her right hand solemnly and she and Scott nod seriously for half a second before they both burst into peals of laughter – making Hannah smile and giggle, too.

Hannah leans forward towards the sand again so Tessa gently sets her back down on the blanket and lets her crawl over to it, smiling when she reaches for the rake Scott was using and starts to examine it. She’s never really considered herself a maternal person, or, at least, definitely not a _baby _person. She likes kids and especially loves spending time with her niece, but hadn’t really seen the appeal of having any of her own until she met Hannah. It’s actually really fun to watch her learn and grow – each development more exciting than the last – and her inquisitive nature is so adorable and so reminiscent of her father when they were kids. Always eager to try new things and learn more about the world around them. How could she not love her?

As if sensing her thoughts, Hannah turns to her with a gummy smile – the sunlight hitting her hazel eyes just right and turning them almost green – and Tessa grins brightly back at her before tucking a loose strand of her blonde curls back underneath her hat.

“Is it time to eat yet?” Scott asks, pulling her out of the moment and playfully reaching around her to try and grab at the picnic bag.

“If you want.” Tessa takes pity on him and his weak attempts to reach the food and moves the bag closer so that he can inspect its contents. Not that he doesn’t already know what’s inside, of course, since he was the one who texted her explicit instructions about what she was allowed to make (“peanut butter sandwiches, don’t get fancy”). “What took you so long, anyway? You were gone a lot longer than five minutes. Everything alright?” He’d left to go to the bathroom so an extended absence is… worrisome.

“I got cornered.” He grimaces and Tessa mirrors the expression, instantly understanding.

“How many?”

“Just one guy at first. I mean, he was fairly cool about it considering we were standing in front of the urinals. I could tell the second he recognized me but he was… polite enough to wait until we were both done to say anything. The problem was the second he started talking the other guys around noticed, too, and then suddenly it was a free-for-all of dads and their sons wanting pictures. In the _public bathroom_.”

“How many of those will be on social media, do you think?” She pulls out a bag of pre-cut apple slices (she isn’t completely useless in the kitchen, thank you) and hands him one before taking a bite of her own, relishing the delicious crunch and the sweet flavor that explodes across her tongue.

“I’m hoping they’ll all realize it’s weird to post pictures from the bathroom, but I’m sure a few are already on Instagram.” Scott tosses his entire slice into his mouth in one piece, crunching loudly and already reaching for another. “Remember that guy who approached me in the showers at the gym and handed me a soggy piece of paper to sign? That ended up on eBay somehow – even though it was mostly mulch. That’s also why I only shower at the rink or at home now.”

“I’m sorry, Scott.” She pats his knee sympathetically and Scott surprises her by moving to lay down with his head in her lap, looking up at her with a pout.

“It’s a tough life, Virtch.”

She knows he’s trying to make a joke out of it, trying to brush it off as if it’s nothing and pretend he’s only faking being upset for her sympathy – as proven by the way he sort of nuzzles into her and knocks his head into her hand, trying to get her to play with his hair - but she knows him too well. As much as Scott loves being a Maple Leaf, the life of a celebrity isn’t something he’d actively sought and it’s been the hardest adjustment over the years. Sure, he’s pretty used to it by now, but there are some days – like this one – where Tessa knows he wishes he could be anonymous and be allowed to enjoy free time with his friend and family without being hounded by well-meaning fans.

“It’s okay to be annoyed,” Tessa says, running her fingers through his hair and smiling softly when the corner of his mouth crooks up and his eyelids flutter closed, “People should at least wait until you’re outside… and _dressed_.”

“That would be nice,” Scott concedes, “Imagine how much outrage there would be if you had fans asking to take pictures with you while your pants were down.”

“That’s going to be my new worst nightmare now, thanks.”

“Welcome to my life.”

“I wish you would have sent me a text or something – maybe I could have rescued you.”

“No.” Scott’s eyes shoot open and he looks up at her with a startling amount of focus, shaking his head. “No. I want to keep you far away from this.”

Tessa hums and goes back to playing with his hair. Recalling a drunken conversation they’d had the first time she’d shown up in a gossip column, back when he was the Leaf’s newest player and rising star and people were desperate to know everything they could about the twenty-year-old prodigy from Ilderton, Ontario. _You’re mine, _Scott had rambled, his words slurring together as they cuddled up on the couch in his tiny first apartment – the one he’d been living in above the Chinese restaurant that always smelled of fried rice before he realized he could afford something nicer. _You’re my Tessa and I don’t want them harassing you and ruining everything. I want you safe. _

“Would lunch make you feel better?”

“It’s like you read my mind.” He smiles, visibly shaking off the brief clouds that had been hanging over him, and props himself up on his elbow so that he can accept the sandwich she hands him. He doesn’t move far though, and the heat of his arm pressed against her thigh is distracting.

Does he even realize how tactile he’s being?

Noticing the food, Hannah drops the clump of sand she’d been holding and crawls back over towards them, and they take turns feeding her bits and pieces – making sure each bite is small enough not to pose a risk. She’s got two small teeth on the bottom to help, but they aren’t enough to make Tessa feel confident giving her anything larger than a morsel. 

“I brought the yoghurt puffs she likes. Here –“ Tessa grabs the container out of her large picnic bag and pops off the lid before handing it over, squeaking in surprise when Scott grabs her outstretched hand and kisses the inside of her wrist.

“You’re awesome, T. Thank you.” He pours a few out on the blanket in front of Hannah so that she can practice picking them up by herself, and Tessa desperately tries to reboot her brain after that random burst of affection.

“Um… you’re welcome.”

“What are your plans for your birthday on Thursday since you won’t be with me?” Apparently satisfied that Hannah has enough puffs to be happy for a while, Scott lays back in Tessa’s lap again – this time not bothering to give her hints, just reaching for her hand himself and pressing into the hair on top of his head and smiling when she starts winding the dark strands into the world’s smallest braids. 

“Dinner with Jordan. She wants to try that new vegan place that opened up on Spadina – apparently they have a golden beet soup that’s to die for. Do you want to come? You still can, you know, it doesn’t _have _to be a sisters-only outing.”

“Nah. Vegan isn’t really my thing.” Scott pulls a funny face and sticks out his tongue, and Tessa laughs at his predictable reaction. Although part of her is disappointed that he so quickly dismissed the idea of joining her for her birthday dinner. He’s always been the one to treat her before – going to great lengths to pick out whatever fancy restaurant is newest and calling ahead to order a special menu from the chefs full of her favorite foods or dishes he thinks she might like to try. The two of them have spent many late birthday nights stuffing their faces with gourmet chocolate desserts and laughing over glasses of wine and pretending to be world-class sommeliers. It will be weird not to have him there, and she would have turned down Jordan’s offer if her sister hadn’t been so insistent that Tessa celebrate with her this year instead.

“Fine, but you’re missing out.”

“On beet soup? I don’t think so.” He laughs and shakes his head, his hair tickling her stomach, and Tessa giggles to hide her sigh. “I’ll call you or something. Maybe we can grab lunch during the day.”

Brightening, she sits up a little straighter at the prospect. “I’d like that. If you have time.”

Scott blindly reaches for her hand and interlaces their fingers together, giving her a quick squeeze. “I always have time for you.”

****

There are thick white envelopes currently burning a hole in her front seat.

Five of them, all neatly stacked unopened one on top of the other, their fancy, embossed logos printed in the top left corner – glinting in the periodic bursts of light that shine through the car window - and they’re all currently singeing the fake leather as Tessa drives down the highway towards London.

Out of the corner of her eye, she swears she can see tendrils of smoke. 

For the past few weeks she’s been in the habit of going home during her lunch break to check her mailbox for any sign of acceptance (or rejection) letters from the law schools she’s applied to, and each day there hasn’t been any sign of a response. That is, until today, when she’d arrived home to find her mailbox stuffed so full it was still propped halfway open. The second she realized what they were, she’d called in sick to work for the rest of the afternoon – it was either that, or drive everyone crazy with her nerves.

There’s no way she’d be able to concentrate on petty contract disputes when her entire future lies within some thin white casing, written out on heavy paper with official letterheads just waiting to be revealed. She has to open them. _Now. _

But there’s also no way she can open them alone, and with Jordan away for a couple of days in Ottawa Tessa’s decided to go to the next best option – her mother – for emotional (and potentially physical - she might faint) support as she unseals her fate.

She had briefly considered calling Scott before she left for London. The likelihood of him being at home and available to freak out with her is pretty high during the off-season and she knows he’d instantly say yes if she asked, but almost as soon as she’d thought of it she’d decided against it. This is a big decision, monumental, and she knows there’s no way she’d be able to be objective if he was sitting there next to her as a physical reminder of what she’d be giving up if she moved away. Oh, she has no doubt he’ll be supportive – he’s probably the most supportive person in her life, always has been – but she also knows that one of the reasons the University of Toronto is her favorite option is because he’s here, and having him sit next to her while she writes her pros and cons list will only bias the outcome.

So Kate Virtue it is.

Tessa pulls into the familiar driveway after the longest two hour drive of her life and spots her mom already outside kneeling in front of her prized pink peonies, gardening hat on her head hiding most of her bleached-blonde hair and thick green gloves reaching almost to her elbows. She prides herself on having an immaculate yard that’s somehow perpetually in bloom, and the smell of fresh flowers that greets Tessa the second she steps out of the car reminds her overwhelmingly of home.

“Hi, Mom!”

“Tess?” Kate spins around at her voice, standing up quickly and brushing dirt and grass off her knees the second she spots her daughter waving at her. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” She drops her shovel and gloves in a pile on the grass and walks over to give Tessa a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, and some of the nerves causing her stomach to uncomfortably twist and clench loosen at the solace and security of having her mother’s arms around her.

“I have some pretty big news, and it seemed like the kind of thing that should be shared in person.” Tessa swallows around the nervous lump that’s lodged itself somewhere inside her esophagus and gives her mother a tremulous smile that has Kate’s own smile quickly falling.

“What’s happened?” Kate asks, brow furrowing as she does a quick scan of Tessa’s body to make sure she isn’t physically injured before zeroing in on Tessa’s face. “You look upset. Does it have to do with Scott? Jordan mentioned –“

“What?” Tessa cuts her off in surprise, leaning back and cocking her head - looking at her mom in confusion. Jordan's been talking to her about -? “No. _No_. I got my law school letters in the mail today. All of them. Well, all of the important ones, at least.”

“Oh!” Visibly relaxing, Kate claps her hands together with a wide smile. “That’s wonderful! Have you been accepted into all of them just like we thought? Tell me, will I be cheering you on in a maroon sweater, or navy? Or maybe a thunderbirds logo – see I’ve been doing my research. A good mother is always prepared.”

“That’s really sweet of you, Mom,” Tessa steps back and starts picking at a loose thread around one of the buttons on her white blazer, winding it around and around one way before stopping and going the other direction, “But I… I don’t know yet.”

“You don’t know?”

“I haven’t exactly been able to bring myself to open them. I’m too nervous.”

“Well,” Kate huffs out a laugh and waves her hand, “That simply won’t do. The only way to deal with our fears is to face them head on. Come on, grab those letters and bring them into the kitchen. We’ll open them over a cup of tea. I’ve got a new lemon balm that will be perfect for calming you down, although it does need to steep for a bit longer than other teas. I hope you don’t mind.”

“That sounds lovely.” Tessa grabs the envelops and her purse out of the car before locking it and following her mom inside the house, already feeling a little better at the prospect of company and a warm drink. “But you might have to open them for me. I’m not sure I can bring myself to do it.” Even feeling the weight of them in her hands has her heart racing.

How is it possible a few innocuous letters could inspire such fear and trepidation? Maybe she’s not cut out for being a lawyer after all, if she can’t even handle being rejected by a couple of schools.

"Nonsense.” Her mom cuts off her thoughts as if she can read them loud and clear, a talent she’s always seemed to have a knack for (she and Jordan used to wonder sometimes if Kate was part-psychic). “You scored very highly on the LSAT exam – I’m sure there’s not a single rejection among the bunch. In thirty minutes time you’ll be wishing for a simpler life with less options ahead of you, I’d bet my life on it.”

“That might be very true. If I’ve been accepted into all of them I have no idea what I’ll do.” Sometimes having too many options can be just as difficult as having none. Maybe she’ll just hop from one school to the next each year and never settle in one place.

Kate smiles and shakes her head, retrieving two teacups and saucers from the china cabinet in the corner of the kitchen and setting them down on the table. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Fifteen minutes later, each woman with a fresh cup of herbal tea steaming in front of them and a plate of shortbread cookies on hand, Kate hands Tessa the bronze letter opener that once belonged to her grandmother with an encouraging smile. “Go on – which one do you want to do first?”

“I guess I’ll just start at the top and work my way down.” Tessa takes a healthy sip of her tea for courage before picking up the first thick envelope, breathing through her nose so that she doesn’t make herself sick.

_What were you doing when you found out you were accepted? _

_I was throwing up lemon tea in my mom’s guest toilet. _

No thank you.

“Sounds like a plan. Up first –“ Kate pauses to look at the seal, then nudges the letter opener, “The University of Toronto. Might as well get that one out of the way.” She smiles knowingly, her eyes full of sympathy and understanding, and Tessa presses her lips together and nods.

Carefully sliding the letter opener through the seal, she unfolds it and slides the packet of information out. It’s pretty thick with a fancy brochure and everything, which she takes as a good sign, but she won’t let herself be excited until she reads the letter and confirms it - her voice increasing in speed and intensity with each word. “’Dear Miss Virtue, on behalf of the faculty and administration, congratulations! We are pleased to announce your admission to the University of Toronto Faculty of Law. We look forward to having you join us for an exciting, challenging, and rewarding experience beginning fall semester of 2018.’” Tessa looks up from the joyful words as they begin to blur together on the page, shaking hard enough to rattle the paper and beaming at her mother. “I got in!”

“That’s wonderful news, Tessa!” Her mom exclaims, reaching out and covering her hand with her own, smiling warmly. “I’m so proud of you. I always knew you could do it. You’ve got more talent and ambition in your pinky finger than most people have in their whole body – you’ve earned this.”

Blushing, Tessa ducks her head as if to hide from the compliment, but can’t keep herself from grinning all the same. “Thanks, Mom.”

_I got in, _she privately repeats to herself, mentally doing a giddy dance complete with tap shoes and a top hat and tails. She wants to run outside and do cartwheels across the front lawn or shout it from the rooftops. _I GOT IN!_

"Let’s open up the next one, shall we? I’d bet in this case good news will bear more good news.”

“Okay.” She’s hesitant to put the letter from U of T down, anxious to begin reading the rest of the information they sent her and start memorizing the welcome brochure, but she sets it aside and accepts the next envelope her mom hands her. After all, she hasn’t decided on Toronto for certain (even though she did secretly walk through campus last week on a whim and imagined life as a student there… and there was that day four months ago when she snuck into the back of one of the classrooms and listened in on a lecture about civil liberties… and also the t-shirt she bought two years ago that’s buried in the back of her closet), and the responsible thing to do is give each school an equal shot at being the one she selects. 

It’s always worth looking at all of the options carefully before making her choice. They’re all good schools, and one of them might surprise her, if she’s willing to be open to it. The logical, practical thing to do is weigh all the options equally, and she can’t do that if she doesn’t give the others a fair chance.

“Let’s see what the others have to say.” 

Tessa stares at the neat stacks of acceptance letters on her mom’s kitchen table in shock and awe – her gaze darting back and forth between each one as if they might all disappear if she doesn’t keep an eye on them. In all of her wildest dreams, she hadn’t really anticipated hearing good news from _all _of her top choices. 

What is she going to do now?

“Well,” Kate says softly, blowing out a gust of air and relaxing back into her chair with wide eyes, “That’s certainly a selection.”

“Yeah,” Tessa nods numbly, “I guess I didn’t really expect them _all _to be acceptances. I thought like… at least Yale would reject me or something. Or Harvard. They’re so competitive. I’d resigned myself to having them say no.”

“But you have excellent test scores and grades, as well as the experience in the field to back you up,” Kate points out, biting off the corner of a cookie, “Most kids probably don’t have that on their resume.”

“I guess delaying my application so that I could work to save up money wasn’t such a bad plan after all.”

“It appears not. This is amazing – we should call your brothers and Jordan to –“ Her mom pulls her cell phone out of her pocket and taps on the Contacts icon, but Tessa quickly reaches out and covers her hand to stop her.

“No!”

“Tessa?”

Tessa removes her hand and looks away, nibbling on her bottom lip and trying to come up with a viable excuse for her behavior that doesn't make her sound insane. “I mean, it’s just all so new. I want to sit and let it sink in for a minute.”

“But your siblings will want to know. Especially Jordan! Think how excited she’ll be. You know how much she treasured her time at Yale and she can show you all around New Haven and help you get settled. And I’m sure she knows quite a few of the professors and can introduce you.”

“Yale is a great school,” Tessa concedes, “And I know Jordan would be a lot of help getting me settled there.”

“So let’s call your sister. Why wait?” Kate holds her phone out with Jordan’s information already selected. All it would take is a tap of the finger and her sister would know all about this miraculous news, but surprisingly Tessa finds that she doesn’t want that. Not yet.

"I’m just not ready yet. Everyone will have opinions and I want to think about it by myself for a second.”

“You mean Scott will have opinions,” Kate says with a hum. There’s no hint of judgment in her tone, but its gets Tessa’s hackles up, anyway – instantly setting her teeth on edge. This is exactly what she’d been afraid of – that people would twist her decision to stay and go to a local school into something it isn’t.

Well… isn’t _entirely_. Obviously Scott does play a part in her desire to stay in Toronto, but honestly it’s only about twenty percent of her reasoning. The other eighty is based on years of research and study and thinking and experience. The Faculty is widely considered to be the most prestigious law school in Canada; it would be an honor to attend there. 

"He’s one of the people who will, yes. But there’s also Chiddy and Jeff and my friends at work and Casey and Kevin and –“

“But Scott’s is the one that matters most.” Her mom laughs and stands, collecting their teacups and taking them over to the sink to be washed. “You know what his answer will be.”

Tessa follows after her, putting the rest of the cookies back in the Tupperware and storing them away in the pantry. “He won’t say it out loud because he’ll want to be supportive, but I know he’ll want me to choose Toronto and everyone will think I’m staying because of him and I’m not. Jordan will make it a _thing _and I don’t want that.”

“Tess, ignoring all of that, do you want to go to Toronto?” She points at the hand towel hanging off the oven and Tessa retrieves it and starts drying the dishes so that Kate can put them back in the cupboard where they belong.

“… I’m leaning towards it, but I haven’t made up my mind.”

“When you close your eyes and picture yourself at law school, do you see the Toronto campus or somewhere else?”

“Toronto,” Tessa answers readily, “It’s always been Toronto. When I was graduating from Queens I asked all of my professors to write recommendations specifically for U of T. I’ve never imagined myself anywhere else.”

“Then why are we even talking about this? Let’s send in your answer today. I won’t pretend that I won’t be a lot happier having you close to home. It certainly doesn't hurt me to hear you say you want to stay in Ontario.”

Kate walks back towards the table and picks up the stack of U of T information, thumbing through it to find the instructions for how to accept, but Tessa can’t bring herself to commit so suddenly. It isn’t as simple as her mom makes it out to be. She feels like Dorothy dropped in Munchkinland being told to follow the yellow-brick road, only there are five of them and Glinda’s leaving the decision up to her which one to choose.

It’s a lot of pressure!

“I don’t want to make such a big decision too fast. Just because I’ve always imagined Toronto, doesn’t mean that’s necessarily the right answer.”

“Actually, I think it probably does mean that, but I commend your desire to be prudent,” Her mother nods and sets the stack of papers back down, patting the sides to neatly arrange them before returning to Tessa’s side and taking both of her hands in her own, “And I think it’s smart to think things over. You know, it might be helpful to consider visiting each of these schools. You’ll feel so much better when you can see them in person and make your decision on more than just imaging what a place will be like. And don’t be afraid to listen to Jordan, either. I know she’s opinionated and biased towards Yale, but she does know quite a lot about the field of law and can be a big help. And, if at the end of all your research and list-making, you still feel like Toronto is the right school for you – then you go right ahead and pick Toronto, everyone else’s opinions be damned.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Tessa smiles, feeling calmer than she has all afternoon. “I like the idea of visiting them. Maybe Jordan and I can go on a road trip or something.”

“I’m sure she’d love that.” She pulls her in for a hug, and Tessa gratefully returns it - wrapping her arms around her mother's middle and holding on tight. “You know how much I love you, Tessa. Whatever you choose, I’ll be thrilled. I’m already the proudest mother in all of Canada today.”

Tessa laughs and squeezes her even tighter than before. “You’re the best.” 

“Oh hush,” Kate brushes her off, but can’t hide the smile on her face, “Now come help me dig the rest of the weeds out from the peony bushes for a while. Nothing clears the mind like hard work.”

Tessa shrugs her blazer off and drapes it over the back of a chair before heading outside to join her mother. A little manual labor sounds pretty nice right about now. She needs more time to ponder everything and start working on her pro and con lists before she tells anyone else – a few days at least. She won’t mention this to Jordan until her birthday on Thursday when hopefully she’ll be better prepared to face the questions her sister (and everyone else) will inevitably ask.

A little lie never hurt anybody, and three whole days should be plenty of time to come to terms with the massive overhaul her life is about to go through… right?

****

“Stop checking your phone or I’m going to start to think you don’t want to be with me,” Jordan teases, clicking her seatbelt into place before backing the car out of the parking lot. “You’ve been glued to that thing ever since you got home from work.”

“Sorry.” Tessa slips her phone back into her purse with a sigh and tries to ignore the steady ache that seems to be permanently lodged underneath her sternum. She hasn’t had a single message from Scott today. No happy birthday text, no phone call. He didn’t even show up at her office for lunch like he’d suggested on Sunday. Not that they normally make a super big deal out of each other’s birthday, but they always do _something _to celebrate – however small. The only conclusion she can draw is that he _forgot_, and that’s almost more heartbreaking than anything else that he’s done in the last five months.

“Let’s talk about your acceptance letters!” Jordan merges easily with the rest of the traffic heading downtown, and Tessa’s grateful for all the busy noises outside that mask her quiet groan. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me the second they arrived today. I would have come straight home!”

“Let’s not talk about it. Tell me more about this restaurant you’re taking me to.”

“Oh, Tess,” Jordan laughs and shakes her head, reaching out to grab her forearm and shake it a little bit, “Don’t pretend you’d rather talk about vegan food when I just know you’re bursting to talk about law school. You got accepted into all of them! That’s so exciting! You should be freaking out!”

Pressing her lips together, Tessa turns to look out the window to hide her wince from her sister. Keeping the truth a secret has been harder than she expected and she knows she’s been acting weird all week – jumpy and secretive and hiding out in her room to avoid Jordan’s questions. The guilt over lying about the letters arriving today gnaws at her, making her squirm in her seat and second guess her behavior.

So much for using the extra days to come to terms with all of her options – she’s no closer to knowing what she should do than she was when she was with her mom.

“It is exciting,” Tessa finally admits, smiling in spite of herself, “I’m just overwhelmed.”

Jordan glances over at her with a smile as she moves the car into the turn lane and flicks on the blinker. “That’s only natural. I was overwhelmed, too, but that’s all the more reason we should talk this out. Osgoode Hall is pretty good, but not as great as the rest – we can probably rule that one out, right?”

“Probably, yeah.” Tessa nods, torn between not wanting to be rude and not wanting to extend the conversation. Osgoode is a relatively safe topic, though. She’s thought about that option the least and had only applied as a back-up plan. If she’s going to stay in Toronto, she might as well go to the _best _school in the city, and that’s not Osgoode.

“Okay so that narrows it down. Obviously you know I’m partial to Yale, but Harvard’s nothing to turn up your nose at and there are some firms that exclusively hire from Harvard, so that’s something to consider.”

“I don’t think that matters. I don’t plan on taking my career outside of Canada.” She may not be as patriotic as some of the other people in her life, but living in another country just seems wrong. There’s no way she’d survive if she was permanently estranged from playing roll-up-the-rim (she won a fifty dollar gift card once, and she’s determined to beat that).

“You might. You liked New York when we visited a few years ago and it has some pretty prestigious law firms to offer.”

“I do like New York, and I love the theatre, but no – no matter where I attend school I want to come back to Canada to practice.”

“Okay so we don’t need to prioritize Harvard then.”

“No, we don’t.” Tessa digs around in her purse for her lipstick and pulls the sun visor down so that she can use the mirror on the back to apply a fresh coat, hoping to discourage any further conversation, but Jordan merely waits expectantly – her silence forcing Tessa to find something to say. “My friends at work went to UBC and they highly recommend it. I’ve been doing a lot of research into the programs they offer and their professors and it does seem like a good school.”

“Vancouver is pretty great,” Jordan nods, chuckling when she adds, “I wouldn’t be too upset having to fly out there to visit you. British Columbia is so beautiful. And so are the men out there.” She waggles her eyebrows, and Tessa lets out an obligatory laugh – choosing not to comment further on _that _particular topic and instead point out Vancouver’s biggest flaw. 

“It’s pretty far away though.” She takes a peek at her phone, surreptitiously tapping the screen to turn it on. _No new notifications – still nothing_.

“Oh, you can’t worry about things like that. Law school is only three years, not forever, you have to pick the best school overall. Unless…” Jordan looks at her out of the side of her eye, suddenly calculating, making Tessa’s blood run cold. “Is there a particular reason you want to stay closer to home?”

“No.” Tessa quickly shakes her head, staring resolutely out the front windshield – casting her gaze around desperately for something she can use as a distraction - but she can tell that Jordan doesn’t buy it for a single second.

Jordan’s grip on the steering wheel tightens until her knuckles turn white, and she speaks through gritted teeth when she says, “Tess, no. I can’t let you make your decision based on Scott Moir. I won’t allow it.”

“It’s not something you have to allow,” Tessa snaps, “Because it’s not a factor in my decision.”

Jordan snorts. “Please. Don’t insult my intelligence. I haven’t forgotten what I walked in on last month.”

Tessa's face flushes with sudden heat and she looks down at the gear shift between them – as if the little curved numbers and letters are the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. “You didn’t walk in on anything. We were reading.”

“Uh huh.”

They haven’t talked about that night since it happened, but Tessa still squirms and blushes incriminatingly at the slightest mention or hint of it. She’s determined never to admit to anyone that she and Scott were doing anything other than reading before Jordan showed up (she’s had quite enough lectures from Jordan ever since Pyeongchang, thank you), and thankfully her sister had dropped the subject – admittedly begrudgingly - when it became clear that Tessa wasn’t going to change her story other than to add that they'd been arguing and were trying to hide it with their books. But there’s a fairly good chance she knows, or at least, strongly suspects, that if she’d walked in five minutes earlier she would have caught them both in flagrante.

“Okay, fine,” Tessa concedes when it becomes apparent that Jordan won’t stop staring at her until she does – even at the risk of irking the drivers behind them who have started to honk impatiently, “Maybe he’s part of it, but the University of Toronto is a great school, Jo.”

“It is a great school and if you genuinely want to go there then that’s awesome, but I’d hate for you to hold yourself back because you’re hoping –“

“I’m not hoping anything.”

Jordan stops at a red light and twists in her seat so that she can face her fully and fix her with a look. One that clearly says _I don’t believe you for shit. _

This is exactly the conversation – and assumptions – that Tessa was hoping to avoid by keeping her acceptance letters a secret. 

“I’m not. I promise. But he is my best friend and I’ll miss him terribly if I move away, just like I’ll miss you and mom and all of my other friends, too. Wanting to be close to the people you love isn’t a bad thing.”

“It’s not.” Jordan pats her knee and gives her a rather pitying smile before facing forward again to hit the gas. “And I love you, too. But just remember that three years will pass in the blink of an eye. You’ll be so busy you’ll hardly notice the absence. It’s hard at first, I won’t lie – I was pretty homesick for the first month - but then you get settled in your routine and make new friends and get buried in homework and the next thing you know you’re on a plane home for Christmas vacation.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Tessa sighs, “It just seems so long in my head.”

“That’s because you haven’t done it yet.”

“I went to Queens for my under-grad! That wasn’t close to Scott or home.”

“Kingston is under three hours away and he visited you every single week he didn’t have an away game.”

“So? It still wasn’t Toronto. I know it’s not Connecticut, but I do know what it’s like to move away.”

“It’s still Ontario. And…” Jordan pauses, biting her bottom lip as if taking a moment to weigh her next words carefully, before continuing, “It might be good for you to get away for a while.”

Tessa swallows audibly, immediately understanding what her sister is trying to say and _really _wishing she wouldn’t say it, and decides to act purposely obtuse. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I love Toronto.”

“You do, but you also love Scott and this could be the perfect opportunity to finally get over him.”

“I am over him.” The words sound false, even to her own ears, and Tessa isn’t surprised when Jordan merely snorts in response. “I am!” She folds her arms over her chest and sinks into her seat like a petulant child.

Definitely not her best look.

“And I’m a flying green lobster.” Jordan laughs, shaking her head. “Tess your face is an open book and you look at that boy like he hung the moon. Always have. Use this chance to move away and meet someone new. You might find a really great guy that will love you back the way you deserve.”

“Harsh, Jo.”

It’s not a fair statement to make. Just because Scott doesn’t love her romantically, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her the way she _deserves_. Okay, so maybe he’s forgotten her birthday today, but other than that Scott’s been the world’s best best friend for the past twenty years. That’s longer than most marriages these days! Tessa can honestly say she has no complaints about the way he loves her, despite wanting more with him. Romance would just be the cherry on top of an already delicious sundae.

“I’m just being honest. What kind of sibling would I be if I let my baby sister hold herself back for a man? Casey and Kevin would back me up if they were here.”

“I wouldn’t be holding myself back for a man. Again, let me remind you that U of T is consistently ranked one of the best law schools in North America.” At this point Tessa should just get that printed on a t-shirt. It would certainly save her a lot of time defending herself.

“Mmhmm, and Yale is ranked as the _best_.” Jordan winks, and Tessa can’t help rolling her eyes. It’s no secret where Jordan wants her to go. Not that she’d expected any differently – her sister’s always raved about Yale and the time she spent there. But Tessa just doesn’t feel like her destiny lies in New Haven, Connecticut, even if the school _does _have the fourth largest library in the United States and a rare manuscripts collection housed in a room that supposedly sucks all of the oxygen out of the air in the event of a fire.

But it’s only fair that she give her sister a fighting chance to prove why her alma mater is so wonderful, and so Tessa smiles and says, “Mom thinks we should go visit all of them – then you can show me for yourself what makes Yale so great.”

“Actually that’s perfect!” Jordan grins. “I’ve got a bunch of vacation days saved up and it would be so much fun to do a girls trip just the two of us! We can do some sightseeing and get mani/pedis and go shopping. And the _ocean_, Tess! We’ll have plenty of opportunities to go to the beach and it should be gorgeous weather.”

“I’m glad you’re excited! That sounds amazing and I can’t wait to visit the ocean again. And I would like to see UBC for myself and meet some of their faculty members.”

“Good.” Jordan nods, obviously pleased with this development. “Then it’s decided – you’ll keep an open mind until we can get some firsthand knowledge.”

“I will, I promise.” Jordan’s joy is infectious and Tessa finds herself grinning back at her. That is, until she notices their surroundings and where exactly she’s decided to park the car. “Wait - why are we at Scott’s building?”

Jordan turns off the engine and unbuckles her seatbelt, reaching for her purse and gesturing for Tessa to begin exiting the vehicle as well. “I left my sweater there during movie night last week and I need to grab it before we go to dinner. It’ll just take a second.”

“I’ll wait here.” She’s not prepared to face Scott right now. Not with his lack of communication currently _not _buzzing in her purse. What would she even say to him? _Hey, any particular thoughts about the date today? _

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t think he’s home, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“He’s not?” She’s not sure if that makes his absenteeism better, or worse. Maybe he's out at a bar picking up other -

_No, Tessa, spare yourself those kinds of thoughts on your birthday_. 

“Haven’t you talked to him today?” Jordan pauses with her leg halfway out of the car to look back at her, and Tessa tries to quickly school her features into something neutral.

“No… but I’m sure he’s just been busy.”

“Probably. Maybe he went to Ilderton for a couple days.”

_Of course_. _He’s at home visiting his parents and he got distracted - that must be it. _Tessa blows out a gust of air and opens up her door to follow Jordan’s lead. “That’s possible. He has been saying that he wants Hannah to get in more grandparent time during the off-season.”

“I’m sure that’s it then. Let’s just pop up real quick and grab it and then we’ll go.”

“Okay.”

The elevator finally reaches the top floor after what feels like ages and Tessa waits until Jordan has confidently stepped out of it before following after her. Mr. Koch, Scott’s polite but hermitic old neighbor, opens his door at the noise of their arrival, and instead of returning Tessa’s friendly wave he scowls at them - muttering something indecipherable under his breath about crowd control and shaking his head as he slips back inside with a glare that’s made all the more intense by his bushy black eyebrows.

“That’s strange,” Tessa frowns, scurrying to keep up with Jordan, “He usually at least says hello.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Jordan replies distractedly, hand already turning Scott’s doorknob without a glance back to see who Tessa’s talking about. 

"You can’t just walk in, Jo,” Tessa chastises, “It’s not polite.” The door is worryingly already unlocked, an unusual enough occurrence even when people are at home, and her frown deepens when it opens up on a dark entryway – not a soul in sight. Is it possible Scott’s radio silence all day is because he was robbed? Or _worse_? 

“This is Scott’s place,” Jordan snorts, heading directly towards the kitchen without hesitation, “You do it all the time.”

“Only when he’s here.” Tessa points out, stopping in her tracks when Jordan pauses to turn and arch an eyebrow at her. A look that clearly says her sister doesn’t find that an acceptable argument. “It’s just different.”

“Believe me,” Jordan laughs, “We all know you’re different. But he knows I’m picking up my sweater and he said it was fine. He won’t care that we stopped by while he was out.”

_He’ll care if he was robbed or is lying in a ditch somewhere. _

“I should still text him. I haven’t heard from him all day and I’m worried.”

“No, you’re sad. I’m sure he’ll call you later.”

Even in the dark Tessa can see Jordan rolling her eyes, and she tries not to feel offended. Worrying about your friend’s front door being unlocked when nobody is home is _normal _and good friend behavior. In fact, maybe she should be calling the police. They could be about to walk in on a bunch of men in balaclavas with weapons right now waiting to attack! Dammit – why isn’t Jordan more concerned?

“I hope –“

They come around the corner and the lights flicker on, nearly blinding her while revealing a large group of people just as they all throw their arms high in the air and shout, “SURPRISE!”

Her mouth falls open as she gapes at them, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjust to the bright lights and her brain tries to make the switch from finding foes to friends. "Happy birthday to you,” They all begin to sing on cue, “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Tessa! Happy birthday to you!” They hold out her name for a solid seven seconds, making her laugh giddily, and then Chiddy’s voice shoots up an entire octave on the last word – making an ungodly screeching sound that has the whole group rolling.

All of her friends are here – Chiddy, Jeff, the girls from her office, a few members of Scott’s teams with their wives and partners who Tessa has gotten to know over the years. So many people that she loves. Tessa clasps her hands to her mouth to hide the trembling there, her eyes filling with unshed tears. “You guys! You did this for me?”

Normally she doesn’t much care for surprises, but this? This is simply amazing.

“Scott organized it,” Chiddy explains, jumping forward to kiss her on the cheek and give her a big hug that Tessa eagerly returns, “We just helped.”

_Scott? Scott did all this? _She searches the room and finds him standing in the back of the group next to Matt (and is that Trisha holding Matt’s hand?) holding Hannah in his arms and smiling bashfully. He runs his hand through his hair before fixing Hannah’s as well to hide his reaction, but she catches the faint blush on his face when he ducks his head and feels an overwhelming wave of emotion crash over her.

His silence all day? Instantly forgiven.

Cutting through the group of well-wishers, promising herself that she’ll personally thank them all for coming later, she makes her way over to him with a wide smile and a heart overflowing with joy and gratitude.

“You organized all of this?” She asks softly, choking on her laughter when she notices that Hannah’s shirt says _Happy Birthday, Tess! _on it. He must have ordered it custom-made just for today and somehow that has her closer to crying than anything else. “For me?”

She’s never wanted him more than she does in this moment. He's just so... so _wonderful_. 

“Yep!” Scott grins to hide the tears she can see peeking out of the corners of his eyes and throws his free arm around her, pulling her in for a tight hug and nuzzling the top of her head when she happily tucks herself into his chest – running his hand up and down the silky fabric of her green and blue jacket. It’s probably more to soothe himself than her, but she accepts the contact willingly. “Happy birthday, kiddo. We sure do love you.”

She squeezes him tightly with one arm, the other coming up to stroke Hannah’s cheek, and quietly whispers, “Thank you.” Whether he means just him and his daughter, or the entire group, it’s still wonderful to hear and she can’t resist pressing a soft kiss into first Hannah’s cheek, and then his.

If it were up to her, they’d stay like this forever – huddled together in the corner with their arms wrapped around each other, the shimmering lights of the Toronto skyline as their backdrop and the smell of something delicious permeating the air (even if Hannah does keep trying to grab her nose) - but Scott must have other ideas because he gently extricates himself from her arms and gestures towards the kitchen. “I made Bibimbap!”

“What?” She gasps, her whole body spinning towards the kitchen so fast she nearly tips over. _Surely he can’t be serious! _ “You made it? From scratch?”

When he’d first said something about learning how to cook Bibimbap while they were in Korea she hadn’t believed him, and then by the time she’d arrived home she’d had so many other things on her mind she’d almost forgotten the conversation altogether! But apparently Scott hadn’t, and he’s been holding out on her for months.

“I told you I would learn,” He reminds her with a wink, setting Hannah back down in her play pen with a kiss before leading her into the kitchen and dishing up a large bowl - handing her a set of chopsticks to complete the ensemble.

“Oh my god.” Tessa takes a big bite, letting her eyes fall closed and chewing slowly as she savors all the flavors – each one seemingly more delicious than the last. “This tastes amazing! Marry me.” The words spill out of her mouth before she can reel them back, and Tessa can feel herself turning as red as a tomato all over while Scott laughs, nearly choking on her food as she splutters and tries to make excuses for herself. _Of all the things to say! _“I mean – I didn’t – That is to say I –“

_That is to say I'd very much like to jump off the balcony now, thanks. _

“Sure, Virtch,” He grins, unfazed by her proposal and ignoring her stumbling words and poorly attempted excuses, “But only if you agree to do my laundry every week. It’s a fair trade, don’t you think?”

She clears her throat, pausing for a moment to breathe and regain her bearings and remember how to be normal, before shooting back, “You think your Bibimbap is worth my having to sort through your dirty underwear?” 

“I don’t know.” Ignoring her protests, he steals her chopsticks and gathers more of the food from her bowl, holding it out for her to take another bite. “Why don’t you tell me?”

She hesitates at first, not wanting to give in too quickly and give him the satisfaction, but eventually she opens her mouth to accept his offering. Utterly failing to appear disinterested the instant her lips wrap around the food – letting out a little moan that would be embarrassing if it wasn’t such an honest reaction to some truly amazing flavors. “Okay,” She sighs in defeat, “You win. I’ll trade laundry duties for a bowl of this every week.”

“Deal.” He holds out his hand and she takes it, the two of them shaking on their agreement like it’s a solemn oath, before breaking character and grinning like idiots.

“You guys better let me try this,” Jeff shoves his way between them and grabs a bowl of his own while Justin politely starts dishing out servings to everyone else. He’s shaking his head, but whether it’s at his boyfriend or her and Scott, Tessa isn’t sure. “I might just marry Scott myself if it’s as good as Tess seems to think.”

“I’m taken now,” Scott jokes, nudging Tessa with his elbow and winking at her, keeping her blush fresh and constant (if only he knew how it makes her heart soar to hear him say that), “We just shook on a deal. What can you offer me that’s better than laundry?”

“Probably not the same things Tessa can offer you,” Jeff gives them both a filthy smirk, and Tessa is torn between glaring at him and running away to hide. Is she that obvious? Does everyone know how she feels and are just too polite to say anything to her face? How long has she been projecting her emotions so openly? 

Thankfully, Justin forcibly drags Jeff from the kitchen to go make conversation with Tyler and Molly, and she won’t deny the relief she feels at not being subjected to any further innuendos at the moment. Her heart’s barely beginning to recover from the whole marriage joke, it can’t handle Jeff making funny faces at her and teasing her about the _things _she can offer Scott.

(Not that she wouldn’t happily offer those things to him, but – whoa – that is so not the point.)

“He’s an idiot,” Scott says conversationally once it’s just the two of them again, digging into his own bowl of food with an unmatched level of gusto, “I’ve seen how you do your laundry. It’s immaculate. I’d be stupid to trade for anything else.”

Tessa swallows before looking up and giving him what she hopes is a bright, friendly smile that in no way conveys how much she wants to jump his bones right now, and bumps his arm with hers. “That’s right. And don’t you forget it, Moir.”

Not long after that Scott gets drawn away into other conversations, giving their friends cooking advice like he’s Gordon Ramsey and visibly standing up straighter every time someone compliments his Bibimbap, and Tessa watches him fondly. He looks good tonight, dressed up a little nicer than he normally would be for a night in – like he actually put in an effort to look good for her birthday party – and it’s definitely working for him. Confidence itself is a good look on him, and she can’t seem to tear her gaze away for more than a few seconds at a time.

Jeff catches her eye for a second from across the room before purposely looking at Scott and then back at her, arching a single eyebrow and grinning lasciviously into his drink, and Tessa flushes and spins around to face the kitchen.

Maybe… _maybe _he has reasons to tease her. But that doesn’t mean she has to put up with it.

“Wasn’t it so nice of your boyfriend to surprise you with this party?” Jeannie, her coworker with crazy red curls and even crazier ideas about Margaret Atwood (they’re in a book club together and Tessa still has nightmares sometimes about all the comparisons Jeannie drew from _The Handmaid’s Tale _to real life), takes a sip of her cocktail and tilts her head in Scott’s direction. “I told Heather just last night that it was nice to know _some _straight people aren’t completely useless at romance.” She giggles at her girlfriend, who laughs along with her friendly teasing, but Tessa quickly jumps in to explain before anyone overhears them.

“Oh! Scott’s not my boyfriend. We’re just best friends.”

“He’s not?” Heather scrunches her eyebrows together and tilts her head, sharing a disbelieving look with Jeannie. “But we see him at the office all the time. And you have a picture of the both of you on your desk. And didn’t you two have a double-date last month with –“

“Yes,” Tessa sighs, “That’s all true. But we’re just friends. It’s –“

“Complicated?” Jeannie laughs. “Yeah, girl, no it isn’t. He’s in love with you. Why would he go to all this trouble if he wasn’t?”

“Because he’s a good friend? You guys don’t know him very well, but I promise – this is just how Scott is.”

“Yeah,” Heather snorts, “That’s why he can’t take his eyes off you for more than five seconds. _Friendship_.”

Tessa spins around, unable to help herself from checking to see if what she says is true, and sure enough – she catches Scott staring at her. Only instead of looking away, he catches her eye and holds her gaze, a slow smile spreading across his lips and some indescribable emotion flashing in his eyes. She’s not sure what it was, but it definitely was _heated _and Tessa finds herself licking her lips - clenching her thighs together when she realizes he followed the movement. They don’t break apart until somebody asks him a question and he’s forced to turn to answer them, and by then Tessa can hear Heather and Jeannie giggling by her side.

“Ah, young love.”

"It’s not –“ Tessa notices the look on both their faces, realizes that nothing she could say would ever convince them, and reaches for one of the cocktail glasses on the counter. She has no idea what kind it is, probably something Justin concocted that Jeff secretly added extra booze to, but as long as it has liquor she’ll be happy. “Oh whatever, let’s talk about something else.”

“Like when are you moving to Vancouver? Because you have to let us throw you a going away party at the office. No slinking off without saying anything at the end of the day like Kevin did two months ago.” Heather helps herself to a second serving of dinner before refilling her girlfriend’s glass, and Jeannie laughs.

“That’s because Kevin was _fired_. Nobody would ever consider firing Tess, she’s the best paralegal we have.”

"That’s really sweet of you to say, but I don’t know for sure that I am moving to Vancouver,” Tessa replies, feeling the temperature in the room rocket ten degrees. “It’s still up in the air.”

“But you do have your acceptances, right?” Jeannie steals some noodles out of Heather’s bowl, ignoring her when she bumps her shoulder in retaliation. “All of our friends applying for fall semester have received them already.”

“I –“

“What are we talking about?” Jordan cuts in, popping up out of nowhere. Tessa had thought she’d been talking to Chiddy, but apparently he’s too enraptured by his cell phone to keep Jordan’s interest and now Tessa finds herself cornered once again.

“Tessa’s law school applications,” Heather answers, and Jordan practically glows with how big her answering smile is.

“Did she tell you? _Five _schools!” Jordan throws her arm around Tessa’s shoulders with an absurd amount of pride, and Tessa groans in embarrassment. "Isn't my baby sister amazing?" 

_"Jordan_…”

“She didn’t tell us, actually,” Jeannie replies, “We were just asking before you came over. Five schools, though? That’s amazing! Which ones?”

“Tess," Jordan prompts, nudging her side, "Now would be the perfect time for an announcement.”

Dread settles low in Tessa’s stomach, and she frantically shakes her head. This situation is rapidly getting away from her and she has to get a handle on it before disaster strikes. “No, Jo, I don’t think –“

“Oh, yes!” Heather jumps in, “It really would! What better place to share such happy news than at your birthday party with all of your friends around?”

_I can’t make a public announcement before I’ve told Scott! _Tessa thinks desperately, trying to come up with a legitimate sounding reason as to why she can’t tell anybody her secret yet. “I don’t –“

“Attention, everyone! Tessa has an announcement.” Jordan holds up her hands to get them all to be quiet, and Tessa blushes bright red and mouths _not right now!_ A command Jordan easily ignores. “It’s pretty big. Huge, really. Gargantuan news.”

"Jordan,” Tessa groans, refusing to look at any of the other people in the room and instead scrunching up her face at her sister – begging her not to say anything. She’s not ready to deal with this right now. She _has _to tell Scott first, privately. He deserves to hear it from her. “Now isn’t the time.”

“It’s the perfect time,” Jordan insists, either willfully or ignorantly ignoring Tessa’s silent pleas and gesturing to all of their friends, “Come on, Tess. Tell them! It’s exciting! They’ll want to know.”

“Know what?” Chiddy asks eagerly, finally slipping his phone back in his pocket. (Probably texting Liz again – Scott’s mentioned more than once that he suspects something serious is going on there).

The whole room has gone quiet now, everyone’s attention solely focused on her. Her eyes find Scott’s and he looks back at her with open curiosity – a look that she just knows won’t last once he hears what she has to say. Part of her wants to make up some sort of fake announcement and then run away, or maybe grab Scott and drag him into his bedroom so that they can be alone when she tells him, but she knows she’d never get away with it so she sighs and, with one last exasperated please-don’t-make-me-do-this look at Jordan, says, “I got my acceptance letters today for law school.”

“Letters plural?” Jeff grins, perking up with interest, “That sounds promising.”

“It is. Um,” She glances at Scott again, only continuing when he smiles and nods encouragingly – relieved to find that he doesn’t look angry to hear her announcing this here, “I got accepted at everywhere I applied, but there’s only five I’m really considering.”

“That’s amazing, Tess. I knew you could do it!” Scott immediately makes his way to her side and squeezes her forearm, rubbing lightly with his thumb in a way that’s both supportive and distracting. All smiles and encouragement. “Which ones?”

She looks at him again and takes a deep breath before blurting the names out practically all at once, one stacked on top of the other, “The University of Toronto, Osgoode Hall, UBC, Harvard, and Yale.”

The room erupts into cheers and whistles as people congratulate her on such an amazing line-up of prestigious schools, and Scott’s right there with them – clapping louder than anyone and grinning like the proudest man on the planet – and for a moment Tessa thinks maybe everything will be okay, her body relaxing more and more with each second Scott cheers her on.

This is fine. They're fine. Everything will be fine. 

Maybe she was worried for no reason. She should have known Scott would be nothing but uplifting, no matter how she told him her good news. She never should have doubted him. He’s always been by her side when she needed him – boosting her morale before tests, helping her make pros and cons lists, taking her out to celebrate every victory, large or small, helping her move into her apartment at Queens and promising (and then actually fulfilling that promise) to visit her as often as humanly possible, taking her shopping for power outfits when she first started working as a paralegal even though he admittedly doesn’t know anything about fashion – the list goes on and on. Of _course _he’d be thrilled about this, too.

And she can see it in his face that he is, until suddenly… he isn’t.

It wouldn’t be discernible to most people, but she can see it in the way his body locks up and the way his smile becomes a little more wooden. Minor details that are enough to make her tongue feel thick and heavy in her mouth and the blood pound a little louder in her ears.

Hannah starts to cry from inside her play pen, as if she can tell that something is wrong, and Scott rushes over and scoops her up in his arms, preventing Tessa from asking if he’s alright.

“Holy shit, Tess,” Jeff half-laughs, half-whistles, “That’s really amazing. Do you know which one you want to choose yet?”

“I don’t know,” She says slowly, still watching Scott and waiting for him to say something or tell her what to do, but even while comforting Hannah he’s still got that same proud smile on his face and tight lines around his eyes that give nothing away. “It’s a tough decision because the Allard School of Law at UBC is really great. It has a reputation for innovative research and inspiring teachers and the programs all look fascinating. I really like everything I’ve read about it so far.” 

“And Vancouver is a beautiful city,” Chiddy adds encouragingly, and Tessa sees Scott wince out of the corner of her eye, “I just got back from a business trip there with my coworker and I fell in love with it. I think you’d really like it, Tess.”

_Coworker. Does he mean - _

“UBC is where I went,” Heather pipes up, holding up her glass of wine in a salute to Tess that the others quickly mimic, “It was amazing and I really learned a lot. I think it would be the perfect fit for you.”

“We know a few people who went there, actually,” Jeannie nods, clinking her glass against her girlfriend’s in solidarity, “We’ve never met anybody who didn’t have wonderful things to say about both the place and the program. I can picture you thriving in Vancouver.”

“I think she should go to Yale,” Jordan chimes in, pouring another healthy glass of red for herself and stealing one of the last strawberries off of the cake – popping the entire thing in her mouth and yet still somehow managing to chew like a perfect lady, “That’s where I went and my time there was invaluable. Not to mention it’s the top law school in the United States. It’s hard to beat that.”

_Yes, I know, _Tessa wants to say, _you’ve mentioned that once or twice, but the University of Toronto - _

“Where is Yale, exactly?” Jeff shares a look with Chiddy, and Tessa’s grateful that she’s not the only one concerned about the distance. It’s nice to know Jeff and Chiddy will miss her, or at least, she assumes that’s the reason they’re asking about the distance.

“Connecticut,” Scott answers, his features finally cracking and settling on looking somewhat dazed. It does absolutely nothing to ease the chill that settles underneath her ribcage. Something is definitely upsetting him and if she could just get a word in to explain what she’s thinking and actually _talk _to him -

"It’s far,” Jordan says authoritatively just as Tessa opens her mouth, “But I think it can be good to get experience outside of your comfort zone. It helps you grow as a person. Plus you get to make all sorts of new and interesting friends from different backgrounds.”

“Harvard is in Boston, though, you can’t beat Boston in the fall,” Molly says dreamily, and Tessa wonders if the rumors she's heard at the rink about her husband being traded to the Bruins might be true.

“And live in the hometown of the Bruins?” Matt grimaces, good-naturedly elbowing Tyler in the ribs, and all of the Leafs players in the room boo in harmony, making Tessa laugh a little hysterically.

“Probably not Boston,” Tessa agrees, hoping her joke will land the way she wants it to, “I know where my hockey loyalties lie.”

“Here, here!” Nikita cheers, slinging his arm around her and knocking his beer glass against her white wine – nearly spilling it on her dress in his enthusiasm – and Tessa subtly steps out from underneath his hold the second it's no longer rude. She’s in no mood to tolerate his flirting right now, however harmless it might be. 

“But you haven’t decided for sure?” Scott asks quietly, speaking up for the first time in minutes and watching her carefully while he waits for her reply, and Tessa glances at him while running her index finger around the rim of her glass – finding it difficult to hold his gaze now that the whole room is paying attention.

“No…” She pauses, the two of them trying to read each other’s faces and failing, “There are a lot of things to consider.”

“In the end you have to pick the best school for you, Tess,” Jordan says firmly, also looking at Scott, but with a frown.

Irritation flashes through her like a lightning bolt, and Tessa has to forcibly restrain herself from snapping at her sister. She knows, okay? She knows that this is an important decision and she can’t make it based solely on wanting to stay near Scott and the rest of her friends and family, but that doesn’t mean she needs to be reminded of it every five seconds. Do people really thinks she’s so weak-willed as to need protecting from her best friend’s influence?

She’s made of stronger stuff than that!

“That’s right,” Scott agrees before kissing Hannah’s forehead, and Tessa desperately wishes she knew what he was really thinking, “Those are amazing options, but you have to choose which one will give you the life you want.”

_Ha! _If only she knew for certain what that was.

Or that it was actually achievable.

“Yeah,” Tessa says softly, looking at Hannah and then back at him. _The life she wants_.

Heather, Jeannie, and Chiddy immediately pull her away to talk more about Vancouver – the three of them eager to boast of its virtues (pun not intended) - but while she appreciates all of their sightseeing and restaurant recommendations and their debate over where to find the best skiing and snowboarding, it’s Scott who she wants to be talking to right now.

The second she’d been distracted he’d handed Hannah over to Jeff and walked over to the sink to start doing the dishes, and although Tessa understands the urge not to let things pile high, somehow she knows this isn’t about cleanliness so much as it’s a distraction. A chance to turn his back on the room and take a few minutes for himself. Which means it’s the perfect opportunity for her to talk to him privately.

Heather and Chiddy are currently engaged in a lively discussion over the relative merits of touristy Stanley Park, and so Tessa silently slips away – praying no one will try to follow her.

“Hey.” She gently places her hand on Scott’s forearm, well above the thick collection of soap bubbles covering his hands and wrists, partly to notify him of her presence and partly to reassure herself. “Are you alright?”

His forehead is creased and his eyes are full of worry, his jaw muscles working overtime at whatever thoughts are running through his head, but the second he turns to her it all disappears, transitioning seamlessly into a cheerful smile. “I’m great, Virtch! I’m really happy for you.”

"You are?”

“Of course! Five schools?” He whistles, “That’s amazing. I mean, I knew you could do it, but wow – Harvard? _Yale_? Those are some impressive institutions knocking at your door. Everybody wants to be in the Tessa Virtue business, and I don’t blame them.”

As usual, Scott’s simple way with words proves to be effective in raising her spirits, and Tessa bites her lip to hide her shy, pleased smile. “Yeah, I don’t think any of it felt real until I was holding the envelopes in my hands, you know? Suddenly seeing the logos printed on bright white paper like that and addressed to me… I don’t know, suddenly it all became my reality in one fell swoop.”

“You deserve it, kiddo.” He nudges her with his elbow, keeping any soap bubbles far away from the silk of her dress – which she appreciates. “You deserve every good thing.”

Heart overflowing from the sweet honesty reflected in his eyes, Tessa places her hand on his arm again and squeezes. “So do you.”

Unsurprisingly, Scott shrugs her off with a self-deprecating laugh. For a guy who can be pretty cocky, he’s never been very comfortable accepting genuine compliments. It always has to be masked by a joke or hyperbolic statements everyone can laugh at. “Nah, I’m a mess who stumbled into most of the good things in my life by accident. Buy you? Nobody works harder than you. You’ve earned this.”

He turns back towards the sink to focus on digging at something stubborn stuck to a dish, missing the way she frowns at him. She hates when he belittles himself. “That’s not true,” Tessa insists, stepping up beside him and beginning to load the already rinsed dishes into the dishwasher, despite Scott’s protests that it’s her birthday and she shouldn't be working. “Nobody pursues goals with more determination than you do. I’ve always admired that about you. When we skated together you were the one who kept me committed to getting up before dawn to practice every day, and once you’d decided to focus on hockey you were unstoppable. And with fatherhood? That might be the most impressive thing of all. Nobody could be a better dad than you and not many men would have tried. You’re so passionate and driven – I’ve always tried to imitate that.”

“And I’ve tried to imitate your level-headedness and all-around unbelievably genuine goodness and kind heart, but that’s never worked,” He chuckles, bumping her shoulder and letting out an over-dramatic sigh, “I’m way too hot-headed, T.”

“Oh stop.” She swats his shoulder with the dish towel and he laughs. “I like that about you. Passion is a good thing.”

_A very good thing_, she thinks with a private smile, _probably his most attractive feature. _His drive? His relentless pursuit of his goals? The way he loves wholeheartedly and unreservedly? His loyalty and devotion to the people and things he cares about? All of those are different facets of his passionate nature, and she loves him for it.

“You’re going to be great, Tess, whichever school you choose. And whichever one it is will be the right one because _you _chose it.” Scott shakes her out of her reverie and Tessa blinks up at him for a second before catching on – trying to remember what they were discussing before she decided to get all sentimental.

“How do you know?”

“I don’t think you’ve ever made a bad choice in your life, Tessa Virtue, except maybe picking me for a best friend.” Okay, she has to punish him for that, even if he is winking at her and trying to turn it into a joke.

Tessa grabs the dish towel again and swats his ass with it, outraged that he could say such a thing – even in jest. “You are impossible!”

“See?” He grins, wrapping his hand around the towel and tugging it free before she can use it to hit him again. “You’re proving my point. One bad decision.”

“Say something nice about yourself,” She commands, both hands on her hips for added gravitas, “Right now.”

“Nobody washes dishes better than I do?” He suggests, flicking bubbles at her face and laughing when she has to wipe them away with the back of her hand.

“That’s the best you can do?”

"You don’t get to pick and choose my self-compliments, T.” He grins again and dips his hand into the soapy water, scooping up a handful of bubbles and giving her a messy bubble goatee before she can stop him. “Don’t criticize how I express my self-love.” 

Scraping away the bubbles, she promptly redeposits them on the tip of his nose – trying and failing not to laugh when he gives her a mock pout. “Then don’t be so disparaging about yourself. You know I hate that.”

“I know.” He wipes the bubbles away with a laugh before pulling her into his side for a hug, and Tessa sinks into him with a sigh. “I was just proving my first point. You really haven’t ever made a bad decision.”

"I’ve made lots of bad decisions. Remember when my hair was blue for that one week back in college?”

They both cringe in unison at the memory. She’d looked like a blueberry or Violet from _Willy Wonka _and it was awful and humiliating. And he’d only made it worse by pointing out her fruity resemblance to her face, leading to one of their rare silent arguments that had stretched on until she’d managed to find a stylist who could fix it and after Scott had done a lot of groveling.

“Oh yeah…” He pulls a face. “Yeah, that one wasn’t great.”

“And that time I was dared to flash my breasts at the boys’ soccer team and I did it?” She self-consciously folds her arms over her chest at the memory. It had been so humiliating to wake up the next morning and suddenly find herself getting jeered at as she walked across campus by a bunch of boys she didn’t know with only hazy memories of the night before. That was the last time she’d listened to any suggestions by her first year roommate – the same roommate who got her to sign up for pole dancing classes and who nicknamed her Vicky Vice after a rather eventful night of strip poker (she was a textbook bad influence).

“Yeah – wait, what? When was that?”

Scott gapes at her and Tessa chuckles awkwardly and holds herself tighter. “I didn’t tell you about that?”

Of course she didn’t. Twenty-year old Scott would have driven to Kingston and personally bleached the brains of every boy who dared to look at her topless. (He can be a little overprotective sometimes... especially back then.)

“Uh, no. That I would remember.”

“In my defense, I had just finished my first semester’s finals at Queen’s and I was very, very drunk.”

"Tessa Virtue,” He grins, slow and wide like the Cheshire cat, “You’re a closet exhibitionist.”

“Hardly,” She scoffs, trying to ignore the way his smile and accompanying wicked gleam in his eye makes her skin break out in goosebumps, rolling her eyes and going back to finishing loading the dishwasher, “Again, I claim liquor as the instigating factor here.”

“What other wild college girl stories haven’t you told me?” He moves in closer, right up into her personal space, and props his chin on his fist while waiting eagerly for information. His proximity has her heart beating double-time, and Tessa struggles for a minute to keep her breathing steady before formulating a response. 

She pretends to zip her lips shut and throw away the key. “A lady never tells.”

“Skinny-dipping?” He asks eagerly, his disappointment obvious when she giggles and shakes her head. _Such a boy_.

“Nope, didn’t do that.”

"Never?”

“No way.”

“Well we’ll just have to add that to our to-do list this summer. We’ll go up to your family’s cabin on Lake Huron and you can give it a whirl.”

Tessa hesitates with one hand holding a dripping plate and the other buried in bubbles, “… You want me to plan a weekend away with you to go skinny dipping?”

_Does he… does he realize what he’s saying? _Because it sounds like he’s making plans to spend a weekend getting naked together.

Not that she's opposed to that, necessarily, but it's still not something she ever expected him to suggest. 

Scott’s ears turn incriminatingly red. _Interesting._ “Not like that. My pants will stay on.”

So he’s trying to plan a weekend where he gets to look at her naked, but she doesn't get to do the same? That’s not fair. As Scott so helpfully pointed out in March, she cares about fairness and equality, which means it’s mutual nudity or nothing. “Nuh uh. No way, mister.” She wags a finger at him, sending droplets of water flying across his shirt. “I am not stripping naked while you sit on the beach fully clothed and watch. If I’m going in, you’re going in with me.”

She realizes her mistake the second the words are out of her mouth, because a slow smile spreads across Scott’s face and he’s a little too quick to say, “Okay, so should we put this on the calendar now, then, or -?”

“Later,” She laughs, undeniably flattered by his eager reaction, but also chuckling at the ridiculous turn in the conversation, “We can compare calendars and coordinate the weekend that works best.”

“Deal.”

Sometimes she has no idea what to make of this man. 

“Are you coming home with me?” Jordan asks as she shrugs on her leather jacket, flipping her hair out of the collar and zipping it up to ward off the late-night chill that can roll in off the lake. “Or will you be home later?”

Everyone else has left, full of good food, excellent alcohol, and copious amounts of chocolate cake, and Tessa can feel a comfortable lethargy beginning to set in. A feeling reflected in her sister's matching eyes, along with a slight amount of wariness. 

“Sometime later, yeah.” Tessa confirms, handing her her purse from where it had been hanging on the coat rack with a tight smile. Things are still a little tense between them from what happened earlier, and Tessa’s not sure she’s quite ready to forgive Jordan for outing her tonight, even if everything had turned out okay in the end.

“Okay.” Jordan turns towards the door, then stops with her hand on the doorknob. “Tess, you know I’m proud of you right? And that I just want what’s best for you?” She turns towards her with a mournful expression, and Tessa’s heart constricts before completely dropping any shoddy walls it had put up in the last few hours.

They've never been very good at staying mad at each other. 

“I know, Jo.”

“I’m not trying to pressure you, I promise. And for the record, I’d be thrilled to have you stay in Toronto if that’s what you decide – of course I would.”

“So you’re not just trying to kick me out so that you can have the place to yourself?” Tessa teases, allowing herself to smile so that Jordan knows she's forgiven, and Jordan laughs.

“Darn, you’ve figured out my real intentions."

“We’re good, Jordan. I’m not mad.”

“Good." Jordan pulls her in for a hug. "Don’t stay too late tonight, okay? Tomorrow’s still Friday and you have to be up early.”

“Okay, Mom,” Tessa pretends to groan and roll her eyes, and Jordan playfully shoves her shoulder. What her sister doesn’t know, and what Tessa doesn’t tell her, is that she has no intention of going home tonight. After the chaotic day she’s had – past three days, really – what she needs is some quality Scott time, and even if Jordan thinks it’s strange, she likes platonically spending the night at his apartment. It’s comforting. Nothing... _more _has to happen (not that her body minds the prospect, should that be an option).

“Bye, Tess.”

“Bye, Jo!”

She heads back into the kitchen to find Chiddy grabbing his keys out of the bowl, and after making up some sort of excuse about work that Tessa knows from sharing a look with Scott is really code for spending the night at Liz’s apartment, he heads out the door as well with one last kiss on the cheek and shout of "Happy birthday!" 

With nothing else to do, Tessa starts picking up garbage from around the living room and cleaning up while Scott puts Hannah down to bed. He'll probably be annoyed with her when he finds out she's been doing more cleaning on her birthday, but it only feels right to help out. Leaving him to deal with the mess after he'd gone to all this effort doesn't sit well with her, and she likes being productive. 

Once the room is livable again, she grabs one of the specialty doughtnuts he’d given her earlier (yet another spectacular birthday surprise! She feels very spoiled) and curls up on the couch to wait for him – flipping through the channels until she finds a station showing back-to-back reruns of _I Love Lucy_. She loves old shows, and in her opinion nobody could do comedy quite like Lucille Ball. She had a knack for comedic timing that was unmatched and the fact that they filmed in front of a live studio audience only makes it all the more impressive.

(And also Desi Arnaz’s accent is kind of attractive.)

Somewhere between her second and third episode Scott returns, dropping down onto the couch beside her and happily letting her snuggle into his side without preamble. If anyone asks, her excuse is that he’s just so much more comfortable than the armrest, and the armrest hadn’t thought to drape a blanket over her like Scott does.

“Can I stay here tonight?” She asks, burrowing in closer and bringing her knees up to prop against his thigh, practically curling herself into his lap. He smells like Bibimbap and laundry detergent and baby shampoo and it _really _shouldn’t work, but it kind of does. It’s sort of… homey in a really nice way. If she closes her eyes she can pretend this is their life together.

"You can stay here every night, kiddo, you know that.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head and Tessa hums contentedly.

“Mmm. Thank you.”

On the TV Lucy starts shoving chocolates into her mouth as fast as she possibly can, the conveyor belt moving too fast for her to handle, and Tessa laughs. No matter how many times she watches this episode, it’s always hilarious.

She feels more than hears Scott chuckle along with her before he squeezes her a little tighter and rests his head on top of hers. “Was your birthday everything you could have wanted?”

“Yes.” She leans back just enough to smile up at him, her eyes almost going cross-eyed from their close proximity. “It was a wonderful surprise. Thank you, again. And thank you for the doughnuts! I still can’t believe you got them to put macaroons in the center.”

Scott laughs. “It was my pleasure, Virtch. I think that idea might just catch on. We’ll call them doughnaroons.” He writes his hand across the air in front of them like he’s making an invisible sign, and Tessa giggles.

“Or Macanuts?”

“Too close to macadamia nuts.” Scott shakes his head. “That would just be confusing.”

“I guess you’re right,” She sighs, trying not to smile, “Doughnaroons it is.”

He quickly tickles her ribcage, grinning when she laughs and wriggles against him to make him stop, and then they sort of end up just gazing at each other for a minute or two, which should be awkward, but somehow isn’t.

Scott’s always handsome, but tonight he looks especially good. There’s something very… hot about a man knowing his way around a kitchen. And with everything he’s done for her tonight, from dinner to doughnuts to his words of encouragement and endless support, she’s feeling very cherished. It's a heady feeling that has her metaphorically floating five hundred feet above the ground.

_We could still do it_, her traitorous brain pops the idea into her head_, _unbidden,_ we could still have sex_.

She tries to ignore it, and the accompanying rush of heat between her legs, by focusing on the length of Scott’s hair and trying to decide if he’s due for a trim.

It doesn’t work.

She wants him. She always wants him. And technically, if you want to get really semantic about the definition of sex, they were interrupted before it could happen last time. Which means they didn’t satisfy the agreement of their pinky promise properly. It’s a flimsy excuse, but one that Tessa’s willing to use if it means getting to be with him one more time.

And, well, it _is _her birthday.

“There is one thing, though,” She says eventually, feeling herself start to blush but determined to continue on anyway, “That I wanted tonight and didn’t get.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“I seem to remember us having a conversation about having sex, and then that not actually happening.” Her words are bold, and she fiddles with the buttons on his plaid shirt to distract herself, daring to slip one of them out of its hole and holding her breath to see if Scott is going to push her away.

He doesn’t.

“Well,” He drawls, his voice light and teasing, “It sort of happened.”

"It almost happened,” She corrects him, making a small but critical change to his choice of words, and feeling emboldened enough to undo another button. “But it didn’t. So the way I see it, we still get to have our one time.”

“Is that right?” He grins and slips his hand underneath the blanket to stroke the bare skin of her shoulder, sliding the thin strap of her dress down her arm and trailing his fingers across her collarbone. 

That’s definitely not pushing her away, and Tessa swallows thickly and prays that her voice won’t crack when she responds, “Yep. If you still want to, that is.”

“Do you want to?” His fingers dip lower so that they’re just barely caressing the tops of her breasts, his touch so light it’s like a feather on her skin, and Tessa shivers.

She pops another button. “Yes.”

“Good. I do, too.” He shifts slightly towards her so that it’s easier to look her in the eye when he undoes the bow at her waist to loosen her dress and teasingly asks, “It’s not in your bed though, doesn’t that violate our agreement?”

She pretends to think about it for a moment, tapping her index finger against her mouth, before shrugging. “I think we can make a few amendments.”

As if she’d stop this from happening because of a _location _clause. Contracts are meant to be amended. 

“Oh phew.” He dramatically pretends to wipe sweat off his forehead, making her laugh. “That’s a relief. I really didn’t want to drive all the way to your townhouse this late at night and try to explain all this to Jordan. What did you end up telling her by the way?”

Yeah, she really doesn’t want that, either. She doesn't have the patience to endure a drive through town right now, and she’s had quite enough confrontation for one day – now she just wants to enjoy herself. She shrugs again and undoes the last few buttons on his shirt, sliding her hands underneath to stroke his chest and push the fabric to the side at the same time. “I told her we’d been fighting that night in my room and that I was trying to keep it a secret from her by pretending that we weren’t.”

“And she believed that?” He shivers when she flicks his nipple, and Tessa smirks at the discovery and does it again.

“Not at all,” She laughs when he gasps, delighting in his reaction, “She knows me too well.”

“So she knows that we… what we… she knows about the sex pact?”

“Ugh,” Tessa groans, removing her hands from their slow exploration so that she can cover her face instead, “Don’t call it a sex pact. That sounds so weird.”

Weird and unromantic and not at all how she prefers to think of their trysts. 

“Sorry. I just don’t know what else to call it.”

“A mutually beneficial limited time offer stress relieving activity?” She suggests, giving him a teasing, tongue-touched smile, and Scott snorts.

“Yeah, because that sounds great.”

“Whatever,” She waves him off with a laugh, going back to appreciating the rest of his torso, just because she can, running her index finger around his bellybutton and down his happy trail towards the top of his jeans, “The point is no – I didn’t explain our deal. She knows about Pyeongchang and the other thing, but this seemed too hard to explain so when she asked if we were together now, I said no, of course not, we were just experimenting.”

“That doesn’t sound much better.” Scott scrunches up his face and Tessa laughs at his ridiculous expression, brushing her hand across it to set it right again.

“It’s better than saying we agreed to have sex one time to get it out of our systems. She’d never believe that it was a one-time thing. Not between us.”

“But she believes experimenting is fine and dandy?” Scott asks skeptically, and Tessa sighs and stops drawing shapes around his abs. 

“Well, no. She thinks we’re both insane and she's worried about me, but I know what I'm doing.” It’s Tessa’s turn to pull a face, and Scott laughs and reaches out to fix it for her like she did him. “She just doesn’t understand. You and I aren’t like that. Because you’re, you know, the way you are and I’m not – we’re only friends.”

Out of all people she shouldn't have to explain this to Scott. He's the one who wanted them to be friends with benefits in the first place. 

But instead of agreeing, Scott goes tense, and Tessa bites her tongue. _Damn it. _“What do you mean I’m the way I am?”

“You know,” She gestures vaguely in his general direction, heavy emphasis on his crotch area, trying to dismiss her words with humor - not quite sure where she went wrong - and bring them back to the joviality they’d had seconds ago, “You’re not exactly monogamous.”

He catches her hand and puts it back in her lap without a hint of a smile. “That’s not true!”

She snorts and arches an eyebrow at him. It’s a rather bold claim to make, given how long they’ve known each other. “Yes it is. How many women have you slept with in the past month? Six months? Year?”

It quickly becomes obvious that Scott isn’t finding the same humor (if you can call resigned acceptance _humor)_ in the situation that she is. His eyebrows are smushed together and the corners of his lips have turned down into a frown – and not a joking pout, but a serious glower. “In the past six months? Um, let’s see - you. End of list.”

"What?” Her smirk falls. She hadn’t expected – hadn’t thought – had assumed… She couldn’t have been wrong this whole time, could she?

“The last time I did anything with anybody besides you was Halloween.”

“Oh…” She starts fiddling with the rings on her left middle finger, her stomach a swirling froth of mixed-up emotions. She has no idea what to make of this turn in the conversation, or the revelation that she’s the only one he’s been with. That maybe his feelings about having sex with her run deeper than… “I just assumed…”

“You assumed I was still sleeping around?” He’s angry now, and Tessa has no idea how to fix this. How did they go from semi-undressing each other to fighting?

“Well, I kind of figured, yeah.” She trades her rings for toying with the fringe on the throw blanket, sitting back to put some space between them so that she can collect her thoughts. “I know you were committed and monogamous when you had serious girlfriends, but ever since Cassandra you’ve been very… free with your affection. Can you blame me for assuming nothing had changed?”

"Except everything changed.” Scott throws up his hands in exasperation. “I have a kid now. I told you back on Halloween that I was swearing off of casual sex.”

“Yeah, but in Pyeongchang you said –“ She seals her lips shut tight and scoots backwards even further away from him, until no part of their bodies is touching anymore. She hadn’t meant to say that, and now he’s going to know that she lied when she said everything was okay in Korea. Going to know that she can be hurt by his cavalier attitude, and if she can be hurt that means none of this has been casual for her – not for even a second.

They're treading too close to the truth.

“What? What did I say?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, grabbing a nearby accent pillow and holding it in front of herself like a shield, burying her mouth into the top of it.

“Did I say something stupid while I was drunk?” He twists even further so that he can face her directly, leaning forward and refusing to break eye contact, his voice insistent. “You have to tell me, Tess.”

“It doesn’t matter.” If he doesn’t remember, then it doesn’t have to be a thing that they address. Can’t they just drop this conversation and go back to the having sex part?

“Except that it clearly does. What did I say?”

“You said –“ She starts, pressing her lips together and fumbling for the right words, “After we – after I had… you know – you said, ‘That was so much better than hooking up with that other girl.’”

Scott's entire face falls, his posture sagging like he's just been dealt a blow, and he looks properly ashamed of himself. “I’m a dumbass,” He says bluntly, and Tessa chuckles awkwardly for lack of another response, pulling one of the strings from the blanket loose and rolling it between her fingers. “No, I am. Look, that night at the party at Canada House I got talking with one of the athletes. I think she was a skier, I don’t remember. Anyway, she made it pretty clear that we could hook up, if I wanted, and I thought winning gold was a pretty good excuse for breaking my celibacy rule, but then I came back to the hotel to check on Hannah and you were there and – and Tess, there’s no comparison. I mean, I certainly didn’t plan on what happened happening. I didn’t expect it in a million years. But as soon as it became an option it was the only thing I wanted. You were the only thing I wanted. What I said was stupid and insensitive, but I was, in an ass-backwards way, trying to pay you a compliment.”

She goes incredibly still, letting the string fall to the floor. A compliment? “Oh.”

“Is that why you left?”

“I thought I was just, I don’t know, convenient.” She pulls the pillow in close again, hugging it tightly to her chest. As if somehow she can use it to Band-Aid the wound she still feels hurting there. “It made me feel cheap, Scott. I was hurt and angry, and then mad at myself for being hurt and angry because I know who you are so I shouldn’t have expected anything less.”

“Wow.” The tension returns faster than she can blink and he shoots up off the couch and walks towards the glass wall overlooking Lake Ontario, running a hand repeatedly through his already messy hair. “That’s a great picture you’ve painted of me, Tessa. Use ‘em and lose ‘em Scott Moir – is that how you see me?”

“No!” She untangles herself from the blanket and tosses away the pillow before rushing to his side. “No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t see you that way at all. I just meant that you like having casual sex and you and I, well we obviously aren’t together, and you said that thing about another girl, so I assumed that I was another casual hook-up and that hurt.”

She's going to be a lawyer, goddammit, she's not supposed to be this bad with words. 

He sighs and reaches out for her hand, and she's infinitely grateful to find him lacing their fingers together – tearing his eyes away from the dark horizon to look at her instead. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, Tess. It was never my intention to make you feel cheap or used or convenient. God, even the thought of you feeling that way, and because of me no less, makes me sick.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not,” She chuckles lightly, and he tries to smile, “But I’ve forgiven you.”

“I can’t believe I thought you were mad because I hadn’t reciprocated.” He snorts, shaking his head at himself and huffing out a laugh. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“You really thought that?” She'd never thought he didn't remember his words in Korea - never suspected he really believed his argument about fair play - but now that she knows she feels like laughing herself. What a silly, ridiculous, wonderful notion. Turning oral sex into a trade deal. 

“Yes!” He laughs again, this time looking lighter, and Tessa giggles along with him. 

"I thought you were making up some sort of excuse to save face or protect your reputation or something. Or,” She blushes, “Because you just wanted to do it. I didn’t realize you didn’t remember what you’d said.”

“I did want to do it,” He quickly reassures her, making her stomach swoop in delight, “But if I had known you felt like that I would have marched over to your place and camped out apologizing until I was blue in the face.”

“To match your jersey?” She teases, trying to lighten the mood and make him feel better, and Scott nods - the warmth in his eyes returning.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He laughs, affectionately tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

This is the moment. His shirt is still hanging open, they've cleared the air, and he's looking at her like he'd be more than happy to continue where they left off. And she wants that. _Really _wants it. But...

“You really haven’t had sex since Halloween?” She peers up at him again, squinting suspiciously and desperately wanting to believe him, and he pokes her in the ribs.

“Tes-sa,” He groans, dragging out her name and breaking up the two syllables, “Seriously?”

“I’m just asking!” She just... she needs to know she hasn't been one among many. 

“No, I haven’t. Trisha was my first date since then, too, and you know exactly how that turned out.” He wiggles his eyebrows, reminding her that yes - she _does _know how that turned out (very, very well), and Tessa goes silent. 

Her lips form a perfect O as she blinks owlishly at her own reflection in the glass. “Wow.”

Scott drops his hands to her waist, his thumbs stroking her through the thin silk, and he smiles. “Does that mean sex is more or less likely to still happen tonight?”

“More.” Her answer is immediate, followed by a blush and an embarrassed laugh at how eager she sounded. But she can't help it. She likes being his one and only, in whatever context it may be. (Especially this one.) 

“Good.” He takes her hands and brings both of them up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. “Because I still want to fulfill our pinky promise. But, Tessa?”

“Hmm?” Her voice is soft, her gaze fixated on his lips now that she knows more kisses are forthcoming, and he kisses the back of her hands again before flipping them over to kiss her palms, too.

“When we have sex tonight, I need you to know without a doubt that it’s not because you’re easy or convenient.” He finds her eyes with his and holds them steady, speaking each word with slow deliberation. “It’s because I want you, specifically, and no one else.”

The words she's been waiting to hear for years are her undoing, and her lips smash against his with enough force to push him back against the glass and make it rattle.

He starts laughing into her mouth – barely able to keep up with her. “Slow down, woman!”

“You need to speed up!” She shoots back, tugging his belt out of his pants and dropping it to the floor before shoving his shirt off and sending it in the same direction. “You wanted to finish what we started so come on. No more talking.” She buries her hands in his hair and pulls his head down so that she can kiss him again. She's been waiting for weeks - no, _years _\- and she isn't about to wait any longer. 

She needs him. Now. 

“Technically,” He mumbles after a few blissful minutes - during which he somehow ended up lifting her onto the kitchen counter so that neither of them has to crane their necks so much – his words muffled by the way Tessa tugs at his bottom lip with her teeth, “You brought up wanting to finish what we started. Just,” He hisses when she trades his lip for the spot at the base of his throat that she knows makes his knees weak, licking the triangle of freckles that she loves so much, and she grins into his neck, “For the record. I was trying to be a gentleman about it.”

“You really want to quibble about who came onto who right now?” She hooks her ankles together behind his back and scoots to the edge of the counter so that her center is pressed right up against the front of his jeans, and holy shit this is happening. They could have sex on the counter right now, if they wanted. A thought that thrills her to no end. 

“Your Honor, I object.” He grabs her ass and grinds into her, swallowing her moans with another kiss, and Tessa wonders if he's thinking the same thing about taking advantage of their location.

“On what grounds?” She asks breathlessly, gasping when he bends down to capture her nipple with his mouth, soaking right through the silk as he sucks and licks her there. Her hands clenching his hair so tight she worries that she might be hurting him. Scott merely moans louder though, his breath hot against the wet fabric and making her whimper. 

"Leading the witness.” He lifts her easily from the counter, grinning when she squeaks in surprise, and starts carrying her towards his bedroom. 

_So that's a no to kitchen counter sex. Darn. _

She isn't really upset though. Scott's mattress is amazing and if they're only going to have sex once in their lives, she's happy to have it there. 

“Leading him where?” Tessa asks, so happy she feels like she's radiating with it - laughing when he tosses her onto his mattress and landing with a bounce.

She starts to scoot backwards to give him room to join her, but his hands dart out to grab her ankles and he tugs her back to the edge of the mattress so that he can kiss her again.

“Into temptation.” He winks and presses his lips against hers, dragging them along her jaw and down her throat before back to her mouth again – repeating the circuit over and over until she’s a quivering mess beneath him.

He's so good at kissing she forgets herself for a minute, too caught up in the overwhelming sensations he's eliciting from her body, but eventually her brain catches up and she stops being a passive partner. She weaves one hand into the hair at the base of his neck while the other trails down his spine and dips underneath his jeans to grab his ass, encouraging him to grind against her. It’s an awkward angle, with him standing and her sitting, but it still feels amazing. 

“I don’t think,” She gasps as he runs his fingers up the inside of her thigh, caressing just below where she wants him, “Temptation is somewhere you can lead a witness. Objection overruled.”

“Well, then where do you want to lead him?” He stands back up and Tessa ponders his question for a moment, trying to decide what she wants to do next, before climbing off the bed to stand in front of him and slipping her straps off of her shoulders – sending her blue dress falling to the floor to land in a pool at her feet.

The expression on Scott's face once she's standing there in nothing but her sheer lacy blue underwear is incredibly gratifying, and she can't help noticing the way he lingers on her breasts. It gives her a surge of confidence and she's happy to let him stare for a minute before pushing him into action. 

“Into bed, for a start,” She finally says, reaching for a hand that he happily lets her take.

Scott makes quick work of his pants, kicking them somewhere to the side the second he has them off, and watches as Tessa sweeps the comforter to the foot of the bed before tugging him after her onto the mattress. Enough staring - she wants him on top of her. 

The second they’re both on the bed though he playfully pushes her shoulder so that she falls onto her back in a heap on top of the pillows, and Tessa laughs with delight at his playfulness. She's having fun - and she's never really thought of sex as _fun _before. Not like this. “What was that for?”

“So I can do this.” He straddles her thighs, effectively trapping her without warning, and dives in, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples while masterfully stroking the other one so that it’s not neglected, shooting her a wicked smirk when she tries to buck her hips in response and can’t. “Stop being so impatient.”

“I can’t help it!” She moans, struggling and failing to find relief when he presses her nipple to the roof of his mouth with his tongue. “The past few weeks have felt like overly-extended foreplay. I’ve been on edge ever since the night of the concert.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Scott kisses across her chest from one breast to the other, and Tessa squirms even harder. 

“Why didn’t you?”

“I thought I was being pretty obvious at Jeff’s when we were helping him move in. Do you think I massage all my friend’s asses?”

_Ha! She knew it! _

“Chiddy’s, maybe,” She jokes, and he releases her breasts so that he can sit up and tickle her ribs instead - retaliating for her joke. “Stop! Stop.” She wheezes, managing to roll over onto her stomach and tucking her arms up against her sides for protection, feeling vulnerable in her nudity and yet impossibly aroused at the same time. 

“Should I have issued a formal notice of my desires, instead?” Undeterred by her new position, he leans down to pepper kisses down her spine, pressing his mouth against each of her ribs to make up for the torture he’d just inflicted. “Dear Tess, you’re super-hot and I want to fuck you. Sincerely, Scott.”

“That’s not,” Her breath hitches when he licks across her lower back, right above the waistline of her underwear, and maybe that shouldn't be erotic but it really, really is, “Not the way I would have worded it.”

"What would you have said?” He tugs her flimsy underwear down her legs with enough force she's surprised it doesn't rip, and she catches him tossing it over his shoulder out of the corner of her eye. Hopefully it didn't end up behind the dresser, or she's never going to get it back. 

He shifts around behind her, grabbing something off his nightstand, and she hears the tell-tale sound of lotion being squirted on his hands. (Well, she hopes it's lotion...)

Scott's hands land on her shoulders, warm and wet, and he starts to dig in - gently massaging the muscles there. 

Surprised, she tries to roll over, tries to tell him she doesn't need this and would like to move on to the main event (seriously, she's so turned on right now, it's almost embarrassing), but he stops her with a kiss on her cheek. “Let me do this for you. Consider it part of your birthday present. What would your notice have said?”

His eyes are soft, his tone insistent, and so Tessa nods and lays down again, relaxing under his ministrations. “Dear Scott,” She lets out a groan as he works out a knot in her shoulder, “I can’t stop thinking about our night together and, if you are willing, I would very much like to see where it would have ended up if we hadn’t been interrupted. Best wishes, Tessa.”

“Best wishes?” He snorts, moving to her lower back and pressing his thumbs into the dimples at the base of her spine, earning a rather unladylike groan.

“Sincerely?” She tosses back, wiggling a little to encourage him to continue. “That feels so good, keep going.”

He takes a break from her back to massage down her arms and the palms of her hands, before focusing on her back again - starting at her neck and working all the way back down - and she feels herself melting into the mattress. “Yours is so formal. Mine was much more to the point.” He hesitates, his hands hovering above somewhere above her body – close enough that she can still feel the heat radiating off them. “Do you want me to do your ass?”

Tessa makes a ridiculous choking sound as she lurches up and around – twisting herself like a corkscrew so that she can face him, even though he still has her pinned. “Excuse me?”

She is so not ready for that tonight and it's very bold and frankly, a little concerning, that he would try suggesting it for their first time and -

“Or should I skip to the legs?” He finishes with a wicked grin, and a crimson stain spreads from her cheeks all the way down her chest as she recalls saying the same words to him back in January.

“It sounds so sexual when you say it.”

“News flash, Virtch,” He laughs, “It sounded sexual when you said it, too.”

“No it didn’t!” She protests, folding her arms over her chest to scold him. “It was an innocent question. Gluteal massages can feel really good when you’re sore.”

“’Do you want me to do your ass’ could never be innocent, I don’t care what context. I was just trying to be a good friend by not pointing it out at the time. And calling it a gluteal massage doesn’t help.”

“You’re such a boy.”

“Guilty as charged.” He laughs and wiggles his hips a little to prove his point, making the bulge there even more obvious, and she grabs him by the waistband of his boxers and practically makes him fall on top of her – capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss.

“Why don’t you prove it?” She slides one of her legs, now free, up his, the skin on skin contact sending electrical pulses all over her body, and hooks it around his waist – using the leverage to finally buck her hips into his and grind against him.

He collapses against her with a huff and grabs that leg, sliding his hand down from her knee to her foot to hold it in place behind him as he rolls his hips into hers, the two of them moaning at being so close to where they want to be. If only his stupid boxers weren't in the way. 

His mouth finds hers again, and it’s like they’re both teenagers getting hot and heavy for the first time. Grinding against each other while making out. And it's nice, but also frustrating because she really wants him to be naked now. Although it helps when Scott shoves his hand underneath her to cup her ass, using it to apply added pressure and angle her hips better, and tears his mouth away from hers to find her nipples again. Alternating between both of them as he nips, sucks, and licks.

“Fuck, Scott,” She gasps, “I love –“ He bites her nipple and she whimpers, grateful that she caught herself in time, “- I love it when you do that.”

“Yeah?” He releases her with a pop and blows cool air over the wet spot, making her shiver and keen.

_Now. Now, now, now. _

“Condom.” She pushes on his shoulder. “We need a condom.”

He shakes his head and gets back to work, slipping his hand around from her ass to her clit, stroking her with small, careful circles that he seems to have memorized from their other times together that have her writhing underneath him again. “Want you to come first.”

“No, wait.” Tessa wraps her hand around his wrist at the last second and pulls his hand away, laughing breathlessly at his outraged expression and kissing away his pout. She wants to come, she does, and she loves that he wants her to, too, but not yet. “I want you to be inside me when I come the first time.”

“I wanted to make you come like this first," He insists, kissing her again, "Want you to be ready.”

“It’s not my first time, Scott,” She laughs and rolls her eyes, although she can’t deny that a small part of her wishes that he was. In some other universe, maybe, somewhere where he loves her back and has for a long time.

“I still don’t want to hurt you.” He bites her collarbone – working a hickey into her skin there, and Tessa moans. 

“I promise, I’ve used my vibrator enough in the past few weeks - I’m plenty ready.” 

Oops. She hadn't meant to tell him that, and she opens her mouth to apologize in case she offended him when Scott speaks instead - cutting her off. 

“God, Virtch,” He groans, burying his face in the crook of her neck, “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” She strokes his earlobe with one hand while running the other one up and down his back, feeling another surge of confidence at his encouraging reaction. Maybe he doesn't mind being her fantasy fodder. “Would you rather hear about what I fantasized about instead?”

“Fuck.” He nods against her, his hair ruffling against her cheek, and she grins - waiting until he's leaned up enough to look at her before beginning. 

“I thought about your hands.” She picks up his right one and laces their fingers together, holding them both up to the light. “You have great hands, Scott. So strong and capable and veiny.”

“Veiny?” He snorts and she grins up at him. “Is that a good thing?”

“Trust me,” She nods seriously, still smiling, “It’s a good thing.”

“What else?”

“Thought about your mouth. How much it makes me laugh, how handsome you are when you smile, the things it can do to my body.”

He props himself up on his elbow so that he can lean down to kiss her, stroking his tongue against hers when the kiss gets carried away. “What else?”

“Mostly thought about your dick.” Her unexpectedly blunt statement has them both laughing, and Scott pulls her onto her side so that they’re laying front to front in a sort of horizontal-naked-hug, still giggling into each other’s shoulders. “That sounded a lot sexier in my head,” She says, burying her face into his chest, and Scott gently strokes her hair.

“It was hot,” He confirms, “I just never expected to hear you say that. You’re constantly surprising me, Virtch. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I wish I had it in me,” She mutters, grinding her hips against his, and Scott arches his eyebrow as he looks down at her, waiting for permission to tell the joke she knows is waiting on the tip of his tongue. She rolls her eyes. “Oh, go ahead and say it.”

He grins. “That’s what she said.”

“That’s what she meant, too.” Tessa rolls away from him and starts digging around in his nightstand. “Where are they?”

"The condoms are in the bathroom.”

“Ugh,” She huffs, slamming the drawer shut, annoyed at yet another delay, “Why are they so far away?”

“Because I haven’t needed them lately.”

Should she find it arousing that he hasn't needed condoms handy in a while? Because it kind of really is.

He steamrolls over her, just to be ridiculous, laughing when she complains at being crushed and shoves him away, and then climbs off the bed and heads towards his en-suite. “I’ll be right back.”

“Lose the boxers while you’re at it!” She calls after him. She's been naked for a while now and, in the name of fair play, it's high time he was too.

“I like this side of you, Tess,” He winks back at her, “It’s sexy.”

She blushes, but doesn't try to hide or excuse herself. She knows what she wants and, with his consent, she fully intends to get it before the night is through. 

It takes him a minute of shuffling around and opening and closing drawers, but eventually he heads back out into the bedroom - fully naked now, thank god - and tosses the condoms on the bed beside her, simply grinning when she looks at how many he brought with an arched eyebrow. She appreciates the optimism, she does, but even she doesn’t think they can have sex nine times in one night.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to let me make you come before we do this?” He asks, settling on top of her again and moaning when she widens her legs – his erection finally coming into contact with her center with no barriers in the way and nobody to interrupt them.

“Why?” She plants her feet and arches into him, his eyelids fluttering closed as her wetness spreads over his dick and her breathing rapidly picking up its pace at the feeling of him right where she wants him. “Are you having doubts about your abilities to make it happen during sex?”

“Ungh –“ He replies rather eloquently, and Tessa laughs.

“Condom,” She says for the third time, and Scott doesn’t waste another minute. Tearing the silver wrapper away and rolling the condom onto himself as quickly as humanly possible. Obviously preening under her blatant appraisal of his equipment. Maybe she shouldn't be so open about it, given his ego, but, well, it _is _a very nice dick. 

“You ready for this, T?” He positions himself over her again, reaching between them to line himself up, and Tessa's breath catches in her throat.

“Are you?” She challenges, deliberately thrusting upwards so that his head slips inside her, and he lets out a rumbling groan from deep inside his chest that sends shivers down her spine.

Pressing his lips to hers, he pushes the rest of the way in – moving slowly until he’s sheathed completely inside her and then waiting while they both adjust.

It's amazing. Better than she'd ever imagined. As much as it sounds like a cliche, she feels... whole.

Tessa gasps underneath him, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggles to maintain control. Scrunching her eyelids shut tight when he shifts slightly – voice hitching on a whimper. “Oh,” She murmurs, biting her bottom lip, “Scott, I didn’t expect –“

“I know, Tess.” He kisses her and begins to move, pulling almost all the way out of her before pushing back in, and then they’re both lost.

It’s a flurry of movement after that, the two of them working together in tandem to reach orgasm. It's not flawless - they mess up their rhythm a few times and he gets a cramp in his thigh that requires them to pause for a second and she accidentally chokes on her own saliva when one of his thrusts takes her by surprise and starts coughing - but she doesn't care. It’s perfectly imperfect sex, made perfect because it’s with him. The man she loves. 

“Hang on, I just – “ She arches her back a little and tries to slip her hand down to touch herself, needing just a little bit more to reach completion, but he swats her hand away the second he realizes what she’s trying to do, replacing it with his own. Moaning and swallowing her loud keen when he touches her sensitive clit and she clamps down around him.

“Let me.”

Tessa nods furiously, bucking her hips with more determination, and she knows they’re both close. “What do you need, Tess?” He pinches her clit and she gasps. “Tell me.”

“I need…” She grabs his ass with both hands and holds on tight. “I need you to just –“ She sort of rolls her hips instead of thrusting, and thank god he catches on – changing the angle a little bit so that he’s hitting her deeper, just how she needs. A few more circles with his fingers and she comes with a shout. Her head falling back onto the pillows as her back arches into him.

Her orgasm seems to trigger his own, and with two more pumps he’s collapsing on top of her and groaning into her neck, his body shuddering with release.

Tessa slowly relaxes, her body buzzing with a pleasant hum, and she basks in the weight of Scott's body on top of her. Instead of feeling restrictive or claustrophobic, it's comforting. Warm and secure. She plants tiny kisses along his shoulder where she can reach and brushes her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, whimpering when he slips out of her and rolls to the side - instantly missing him. 

Scott uses what little energy remains to dispose of the condom and for half a second when his back is turned the worry and doubt creeps back in. Will he want her to leave now? Sleep on the couch? Go home? 

Before her fears can take hold though, he rolls back over and snuggles up to her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her in close. “Well, how’d I do, Virtch?”

She giggles breathlessly, sweaty and sated and beaming. “I’d give this establishment a five star review. Excellent service.”

Laughing, Scott gathers her up in his arms, rolling onto his back and taking her with him so that she’s splayed out over his chest – her head resting just underneath his chin - and she can't keep ridiculous smile off her face. She starts tracing little shapes into one of his pecs, feeling happier and more adored than she ever has before.

“Can I still spend the night here?” She half-whispers into his skin, equal parts nervous and hopeful. She wants this. Wants to be close to him. Even if only for a night. 

“Right here?” He wraps both of his arms around her to emphasize his question, and she nods.

“No place I’d rather have you be.” He softly kisses the top of her head, and, feeling elated, Tessa only briefly moves away to retrieve the comforter and pull it over them before snuggling back into his chest. “Goodnight, Virtch.”

“Goodnight, Scott,” She murmurs, kissing his sternum, whispering _I love you_ so quietly she’s certain he can’t hear. The words need to be said, just once, before she falls asleep and tomorrow changes everything.

It's been the best birthday ever. She just hopes he won't regret this in the morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 23k is a behemoth to edit! Apologies for any mistakes.


	4. how long will you make me wait (i don’t know how much more i can take)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Tessa's birthday, an uncomfortable cafe conversation, and one night in New Haven, Connecticut. 
> 
> Coincides with chapter 15 of Change Directions.
> 
> As always, please note the rating of this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are you so far from me?  
In my arms is where you ought to be.
> 
> Oh, the way your hand feels round my waist  
The way you laugh  
The way your kisses taste
> 
> I missed you
> 
> \- to whom it may concern, the civil wars

** how long will you make me wait (i don’t know how much more i can take) **

_The water is cool where her hands drift through it – dangling over the side of her inflatable pool mat drawing ripples on the surface that sparkle in the afternoon sunshine. The gentle rocking of the waves keeping her just out of consciousness, easing her mind into a sort of pleasant lethargy that she finds she has no desire to shake herself out of. The sun on her back is hot, but not enough to bother her, and Tessa settles further into the smooth surface underneath her cheek. _

_She should visit the cabin in Bayfield more often. Her schedule has been far too busy the past few years and she hasn’t taken as much time as she’d like to just relax and decompress in the beauty of Lake Huron. This is her happy place, her oasis, her home away from home, and if that thing would stop tickling her lower back she could stay here forever and –_

Tessa shifts, trying to make whatever it is that’s touching her stop so that she can keep enjoying her little corner of heaven, but the more she shifts the more reality starts to seep in through the cracks in her dream. Pieces of her surroundings slowly come back to her as the sparkling azure waters slip away and the bobbing inflatable mat underneath her body morphs into a human chest – the tides becoming the rise and fall of someone’s steady breathing. 

_No, not someone, _her brain supplies, _Scott. _

Any remnants of sleep quickly dissipate at the realization that she’s in Scott’s apartment, in his bed, where they’d slept together (in every meaning of the word, both literal and metaphorical), and he hasn’t woken her up or asked her to leave or even so much as politely requested that she move off him so that he can get better rest. It can’t have been very comfortable having her lying on top of him all night, and yet he’s just… held her. Let her stay right where she was, just like she’d asked.

A sort of giddy, lighthearted joy descends upon her – starting somewhere near her heart and spreading out to the tips of each of her limbs – filling her body with a pleasant buzzing sensation. If it were possible, she’s pretty sure she’d be glowing right now like Yvaine in _Stardust_.

A tiny sigh escapes her as she relaxes into him, recognizing the feeling on her back as that of his fingertips tracing random shapes into her spine. If she let herself, she could probably fall back asleep like this, safe and warm in his embrace. The prospect alone is tempting enough for her to keep her eyes closed and stay still.

It feels so nice - soothing and arousing all at once. She’s never woken up naked with anyone before. Has always been far too careful and meticulous for that, religiously selecting the perfect pajamas or lingerie to wear on nights spent with romantic partners. But with Scott she doesn’t feel the usual anxieties cropping up about her nudity or how much skin is currently pressed up against his. It’s just… _nice. _

After a few minutes spent trying not to react to his touch, she decides to return the favor, tracing circles on his chest and ignoring the urge to check the time. The sun must be rising, meaning she’ll have to get up and get ready for work soon, but the few times she’s blinked her eyes open the room has still been fairly dim so she figures they have at least twenty minutes to spare – maybe thirty – before she really needs to consider getting out of bed. And as far as she’s concerned she’ll be happy to spend all of them right where she is.

Scott’s heartbeat gradually picking up speed is her only warning before his hands dare to dip a little lower, sliding underneath the blanket to trace over her ass and down across the backs of her thighs, and Tessa suppresses a shiver.

Somewhere inside of her there should be a voice telling her to retreat. To get out of bed and close the door on this little foray into wonderland. To honor their agreement and leave before they can violate the solemn oath of their pinky promise. But Tessa’s pretty sure she left that voice behind on that inflatable mattress in Bayfield in the golden haze of her dream and until it returns, she’s going to let Scott do whatever he wants.

He traces back and forth across the line where her ass meets the top of her thighs a few times before gently seeking out her center – his fingertips grazing her with the lightest of touches _almost _where she wants him the most before moving back to her ass – and Tessa does shudder then. Her body is on edge from his gentle, continual exploration, each sensation more heightened than the last, and if he’s looking for permission to have sex with her again then he one hundred percent has it. Pinky promises be damned.

Just the thought of having him again, of feeling him moving inside her, kissing him, holding him, being close to him, has her heart racing and her breath stuttering in anticipation. But instead of making a move, Scott’s hands retreat back up her spine, making her whimper with the loss while simultaneously bursting into full consciousness at the feeling of his nails softly scratching her back.

“I should –“ She begins to say, swallowing thickly as his hands start combing through her hair with a level of tenderness that has tears inexplicably pricking the back of her eyes. _Should go, should stay, should tell you I love you_… “I have work.”

It’s not a retreat. It’s not anything really, other than a statement of fact, but it is an out if he wants it. An excuse to put a stop to this before they get carried away again.

Nobody is more surprised than she is when he doesn’t take it.

“It’s early yet, we have hours.” His voice is rough with sleep, thick and raspy in that way she’s never heard it, and she bites her lip and nods – clenching her thighs together to stave off some of the arousal building there. They’ve shared a bed before, of course, but he’s usually up long before she is and by then his voice is normal.

This morning is different in every way imaginable.

“What about Hannah?”

“Black-out curtains,” Scott explains, the words slurring together, “The sunrise won’t wake her up.” He drops her hair in favor of drawing something on her shoulders, and Tessa idly hopes he doesn’t mind how many more freckles she has after spending all of Sunday afternoon with him in the sun. Not that she’s worried – Scott’s only ever had nice things to say about her freckles, and, if she’s being honest, it’s one of the reasons she feels so comfortable being naked with him now.

They fall silent again, each one lost in their own thoughts (she wishes she knew what he was thinking – does he have any regrets about this? She doesn’t, but maybe she should), and Tessa’s taken by surprise when Scott wraps his arms around her body in a sudden hug and presses his cheek against the top of her head.

She wants to ask if everything’s alright. If this is a “thanks for everything, but goodbye now” kind of hug. Instead she returns it without a word, too afraid to hear his rejection out loud.

Intending to dig her arms underneath his back as best she can to properly hug him back, she’s prevented from her goal by a sudden pricking of her skin. The irritating rub up against something foil has her picking up the offending object and holding her hand out with a laugh. “We fell asleep with all the condoms on the bed.”

“Oh,” He chuckles, taking the silver packet from her and then lifting his head up off the pillow so that he can look at the messy pile strewn about on the mattress, “Now you mention it, I think I feel one or two underneath my back.” Scott jostles her around a bit as he shifts to reach the condoms, then pulls one out from underneath himself and tosses it amongst the rest, and Tessa barely holds back the giggles threatening to burst out of her at the ridiculous tableau they present.

“We should probably clean up.” She pushes off his chest to sit up, grabbing the sheet and pulling it around herself for warmth – not wanting to leave the sanctuary she’s found here yet, despite her words. She probably looks frightful like this, sitting in his lap in a thin sheet with no make-up on and what must surely be a head of disastrous hair, but if Scott notices or disapproves he doesn’t say anything. Instead letting his eyes roam her form from top to bottom with unfettered interest, flashing with a level of intensity that has her gasping.

“Why?” He sits up and in one fluid motion manages to pull her closer so that their chests are pressed together again, tracing her collarbone before leaning in for what’s sure to be a heated kiss.

Her heart flutters wildly, but she dodges him at the last second, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that she hasn’t brushed her teeth and Scott’s witnessing her in a state of intimacy she’s never allowed with anyone else. It’s intimidating as hell and she pulls the sheet tighter around herself, this time for modesty more than comfort. _What if he doesn’t like what he finds?_

“Morning breath,” She explains with a frown, covering her mouth with her hand, “It won’t be pleasant.”

Scott carefully extricates her hand and kisses the back of it before caressing her jaw with the back of his knuckles, slowly bringing his fingers up to outline her lips before shaking his head and letting out a quiet chuckle. “Tess, I don’t care about that.”

He might think he doesn’t, but she knows he does. He _must. _He’s used to women who fall all over him and probably wear tiny scraps of lace at all times and remember to wake up before he does so that they can brush their teeth and freshen up everything before he sees them instead of drooling on his chest all night. _God _she’s so embarrassed.

“You will,” She claims through gritted teeth, trying to keep her distance even though he’s laughing at her while still trying to lean in, undeterred by her attempts to spare him the horror of her normalcy.

“Let me find out for myself.”

“No.” She shakes her head and claps her hand over his mouth to stop him from closing the gap, accidentally kissing the back of her own hand when he doesn’t stop moving in time. “Then the magic will be gone.”

“The magic?” He snorts, the words muffled by her hand, and she starts scrambling for how to explain without sounding completely ridiculous or vulnerable or letting him know just how important it is to her that he look back on this event with almost as much fondness as she will.

“You know, the magic of thinking your partner is perfect. No weird habits, nothing gross, no human weaknesses, no morning breath. If I let you kiss me now, the fantasy will be ruined.”

“Tess,” He laughs, shaking his head and going back to stroking her collarbone – trailing his fingertips all the way down to the tops of her breasts until the sheet impedes him from going any further (not that it does much to hide her bodies reaction to his gentle caresses - _traitor_), “I couldn’t care less about morning breath or if you haven’t shaved or if you’re human and ‘gross’ sometimes,” He pauses to make air-quotes with his fingers and roll his eyes before continuing, “I’ve known you for twenty years – _that’s _where the magic is. You’re not a fantasy, you’re the best reality.”

Heat floods her cheeks even as a slow smile spreads across her face. He really feels that way? That all of this, for lack of a better word, “magic” exists because of who they are and what they are to each other? That she’s the _best _–

Scott swoops in to kiss her, effectively shutting off all further thoughts by turning her mind into nothing more than static bursts. Pressing his lips to hers again and again and again, stroking her tongue and nibbling her bottom lip as if he couldn’t care less about how minty her breath is or isn’t, and the more confidently he kisses her, the more her worries melt away.

She starts to grind against him, just the slightest shift of her hips to seek out some friction and a modicum of relief for the burst of arousal between her legs – arousal that hasn’t really diminished since she woke up to find him exploring her body. She can feel him growing harder beneath her and her desire flares, but Scott stops her with his hands on her waist.

Tessa tears her mouth away from his, pushing back on his shoulders so that she can look at him properly, frowning at the loss. “What’s wrong? Why did you stop me?”

“I want to.” He leans forward to peck her lips, effectively stopping her doubts from creeping back in. Kissing her once, twice, three more times before speaking again. “I promise. But first let me touch you.”

“You _are _touching me,” She snorts, rolling her eyes and her hips together to point out that his hands very much are still on her body, and Scott laughs and taps his fingers against her skin.

“No, I know. I just meant I want to take my time. Go slow.”

“Slow?” But slow is for romance. Slow sex is… serious. At least it is in her book. Sex isn’t something she takes her time with unless it’s with a trusted partner in a committed relationship. Slow comes from a place of devotion, of wanting to savor each sensation. _Why _is he looking for that now? With her?

Slow morning sex is… so much more than a one-night stand, and she has absolutely no idea what to make of that.

Scott nods to answer her question before kissing her forehead, then the bridge of her nose, then each cheek, before pulling back with a soft smile. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

There’s something in his expression. Something new that she can’t decipher. His eyes are warm, overflowing with their usual adoration and affection, but also almost look like they’re full of… _no – _she doesn’t dare even think the word. It would be too good to be true and she doesn’t dare let herself hope for that right now. But his intentions, whatever they are, seem genuine, so she nods.

“I guess so.”

His smile is blinding and she almost laughs at his schoolboy eagerness when he tugs at the top of the sheet. “So can I -?”

Tessa nods, raising her arms slightly to give him the room he needs, and Scott quickly tugs the sheet free and lets it fall down to pool around her waist, baring her top half to his hungry gaze. 

With a soft push against her shoulder, he encourages her to sit back a little so that he has more room and then slowly starts to trace the contrasting lines left by the sun and shadows on her chest. Watching his own hands as they move across her collarbones, down each arm, between her breasts, over her abs – smiling to himself when she sucks in her stomach and giggles breathlessly. Stroking along her hips and down the outside of each thigh before curving around her knees to caress up the softer insides – skipping her center completely in favor of trailing back up to her bellybutton and around her piercing before brushing all eight fingers lightly over her breasts, just barely, barely touching her nipples. Leaving a trail of fire wherever he goes. His movements languid. Reverent. _Entrancing._

It’s as if all of the air has suddenly been sucked from the room and she can’t breathe. Can’t even _think_. Nobody’s ever touched her like he is. Looked at her like he’s looking at her. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and Tessa shuts her eyes to protect herself against the onslaught of emotions that follow the little quirk at the corner of his mouth when he flicks her bellybutton piercing.

All she can do is sit there in his lap, helpless and waiting for him to decide where to touch her next – her hands clenching and unclenching behind his neck where she’d looped them for support (falling over feels like a real possibility and _that _would be mortifying), uselessly searching for something solid to hold onto and only succeeding in finding his hair.

“Breathe, Tess,” He chuckles, his warm breath bursting across her neck before his lips find her jaw.

“Sorry,” She swallows thickly, blinking her eyes open and trying to look at him through the foggy haze he’d brought down upon her.

“Don’t be sorry,” He teases, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses underneath her ear and trailing them down to her sternum, “Just don’t pass out, either.”

She lets out a breathless little laugh, tilting her head to the side to give him more room and whimpering when he sucks on her earlobe, his thumbnail grazing the underside of her breast. “Easier said than done.”

“Is this too much?” He reaches around to touch her back again, this time stroking his fingers from the top of her spine all the way down to the crease of her ass, dipping his fingers inside before bringing them back around and going up her sides to her ribs, and Tessa’s whole body shivers involuntarily – her skin breaking out in goosebumps from head to toe.

“No,” She moans, her head falling forward onto his shoulder as her chest heaves irregularly against his, “It feels good. I’m just not…” She stutters when he caresses her ass again before moving down the backs of her thighs. Somehow he’s managing to awake every new and old erogenous zone on her body at the same time, and she’s not sure she’s going to survive. “… Used to it.”

“To what?” Scott runs his lips along her shoulder with just the barest hint of pressure, and she hums low and throaty into his neck, her hand gripping the hair at the base of his head for something to tether herself to. She wants to reciprocate. Wants to make him feel the same sensations he’s eliciting in her. But she barely has enough residual brain power to keep her mouth moving. 

“To being worshipped, I guess,” She answers with a whisper, wondering if he’ll mind her word choice or if he’ll tease her about it. Maybe this isn’t worshipping to him, maybe it’s just really drawn-out foreplay. Maybe he doesn’t –

Scott kisses the crook of her neck. “You deserve to be worshipped like this every day.”

“By you?” Her heart squeezes painfully inside her chest, mirroring the actions of her hands in his hair, and she waits breathlessly for his answer – hoping she didn’t just take it too far.

“If you want me to,” Scott whispers back, helping her shift her legs so that they’re outstretched on either side of him inside of curled underneath her and she's resting all of her weight on his lap - effectively erasing any distance there might have been between their bodies before wrapping his arms around her waist in a warm embrace.

It’s all-encompassing, this position. Almost more intimate than sex had been. It’s like… it’s like he wants to be utterly and completely connected with her. Their hearts beating as one.

But that… that can’t be true, can it?

She can feel his erection pressing against her, even though Scott hasn’t done anything to draw attention to it (which is surprising in and of itself – his restraint is confusing), and she wants it inside her. Wants that last bit of distance closed so that they truly are as close as possible. “I want you,” She murmurs against him, slipping her hand between their bodies with some difficulty before working her way down to grab his cock.

Instead of agreeing or allowing her to get him into position though, Scott jerks and pulls her hand away, holding it behind her back for good measure – as if he’s afraid that if he lets go she might reach for him again.

(She will, so that’s fair.)

“This isn’t about me,” He gasps. His face is flushed, his heart beating hard enough that she swears she can feel it inside her own chest, and Tessa almost laughs out loud at his statement. Of course it is – it’s about both of them being together. Emphasis on _both_.

“I _want _you,” She insists again, trying with her left hand when he refuses to free her right, fully intending to reach her destination and sink down on him so that they can both reach the satisfaction they both so clearly seek, but Scott surprises her by doing the last thing she expects – he slaps her ass. Not too hard, but enough to make her yelp in surprise, and Tessa wonders if Scott can feel the rush of wetness between her legs.

_Fuck _she liked that.

“I’m sorry!” He apologizes quickly, peppering her cheeks with a thousand little kisses, but Tessa can feel the way his other hand is gripping her hip – the way he hand on her ass digs in a little into the red print that surely must be blossoming there right now – and she doesn’t think he’s sorry at all.

“Don’t be,” She giggles, pushing on his shoulders just enough to get him to lean back and look at her, “I liked it, you just took me by surprise.”

Scott gulps audibly, his pupils dilating at her confession, and it’s both endearing and arousing in equal measure. _He’s into it, too. _“Yeah?” She nods and he does it again – grinning wickedly when her yelp is more of a moan. He isn’t the only one who likes experimenting with different sensations.

“I want to touch you too, though.” She trails her hands down his chest, tweaking his nipples and making him gasp before tracing his each one of his abs and swirling her finger around his bellybutton before drifting lower down his happy trail, her destination obvious.

But again he stops her, wrapping his hands around both of her wrists and glaring at her (although she can see there’s no real heat behind it). “For such a great student, you are _really _bad at listening.”

“I’m an excellent listener!” She protests immediately, wriggling her arms to try and break free and failing. “Why are you being so stubborn about this? Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

“Guilty as charged.” He grins and raises her hands high above her head, easily holding them together with one hand while drawing circles around her breasts with the other, refusing to touch her nipples even though she eagerly arches into his hands each time he gets close.

It’s _maddening_.

“Is that a formal plea?” She gasps, trying to play along even though all she really wants is to fuck him now. They’re going to run out of time and if he goes to all the trouble of doing all this build-up only to send her off to work without touching her _once _where she wants him she might actually die. “Should I take you to the judge for sentencing?”

“I dunno.” He tugs on her bellybutton ring and the sensation shoots straight to her groin, making her gasp. _There’s new erogenous zone number fifty-seven_. “Are you my lawyer or acting on behalf of the prosecution?”

All she really cares about is the first part of that question, and she bites her bottom lip and looks up at him. “Yours, of course.”

Scott’s eyes get that look in them again, that same one from before that seems loaded with things unsaid and emotions just waiting to emerge. The one that has hope fluttering wildly from inside the cage she’d put it in years ago. “Then I trust you with my defense when I’m done. Now lay back.”

“What?” Does he want to switch positions? Lay a different direction this time? She can’t make sense of his request because he doesn’t seem to be moving – he’s just gesturing to where his legs are spread out behind her as if she’s supposed to know what that means.

“I can’t have you trying to distract me,” He insists, “Lay back.”

“On your legs?” She’s so confused. This isn’t like anything she’s ever done before.

“Yeah. And lift your arms over your head, too, just to be safe.”

Raising her eyebrows at him, she does as instructed – despite being highly skeptical of his intentions and where this is leading. Once she’s fully reclined, she lifts her arms above her head and wraps her hands around his ankles – feeling utterly ridiculous. Embarrassment starts to creep in as she realizes just how fully exposed to him she is in this position. “What now?”

“Now you stay like that until I say you can move.” He winks and she immediately tries to sit up again.

_No, no way_. She is not going to lay there with her whole body on display for his perusal.

But Scott doesn’t allow her to get far, gently holding her down with enough pressure to stop her, but not enough to make her feel unsafe (never that).

“_Scott!” _She protests, and he drops his hand so that she can at least prop herself up on her elbows while glowering at him.

“Tess, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to, but I’d really like to continue touching you right now.” He’s got those big, pleading eyes and that smile she can never say no to, and Tessa flops backwards with a groan – throwing one of her arms over her eyes. At the very least hiding her face from him so that he can’t see how cherry red it must be.

“I- _god, _Scott. You’re killing me, but okay.”

“Okay?” He sounds so giddy she can’t help but begrudgingly smile.

“Yes.”

An excited hum escapes the back of his throat, and she peeks out from underneath her arm to see him grinning.

Which does nothing to prepare her for his hands returning to her body.

This time he has all the room in the world and he obviously intends to use it. Her legs are still wrapped around either side of his waist, but her torso is completely exposed, and he spends an inordinate amount of time on her breasts, massaging them, stroking them, rubbing her nipples with his thumbs until she’s writhing and her fingernails are digging into his ankles hard enough to break skin (she feels bad about that… but also, he wanted this, so he can accept the consequences).

It’s borderline torture. A level of hypersensitivity she’s never reached before. His touch feels so, so good, but it’s also so far away from where she wants him and she can feel herself practically dripping in anticipation when he finally moves lower – brushing over her stomach and tracing each and every dip there. Pressing his palm flat against her abs as if he wants to feel them clench when he tugs at her nipple again. Like he’s studying all of her body’s reactions to catalog for later.

It’s… mindnumbingly arousing. That he might be thinking that, wanting that. Wanting to know her body and make her feel good. To have his focus on her, single-minded and purposeful. It’s a heady sensation, and she finds her self-consciousness slipping away in a haze of pleasure. Let him touch. Let him explore. Let him memorize every part of her. As long as she has his undivided attention and desire.

Her heart is racing inside her chest, her body strung tight like a wire waiting for his next move, and when he suddenly runs his index finger through her folds, barely flicking her clit, Tessa’s body shudders and seizes up in response – a small yet wonderful orgasm washing over her.

“Did you just -?” Scott asks, his voice full of wonder, and Tessa feels herself starting to blush. She hadn’t known her body could reach its peak so easily.

“A little,” She admits, “Kind of, yeah.”

“Wow.” Scott huffs out a breathless chuckle and hauls her up for a kiss – spreading his hands out wide against her back as he holds her to him – and Tessa’s grateful for the heated pace of his lips against hers.

If she thought having an orgasm would help calm her down, she was utterly wrong. Instead it’s done the opposite, driving her desire even higher and spiking her need for him. If he doesn’t start moving a little quicker, she might combust on the spot.

“Does this mean I can touch you now?” She gasps, pulling her mouth away from his to kiss his shoulder, scooting in closer until she’s pressed up against his cock. _God _he’s right there and if she just shifted her hips a little they could…

“Get a condom,” Scott interrupts her thoughts, and Tessa quickly does as he commands – grabbing one of the silver packets off the bed and tearing the foil off, tossing the wrapper to the side before rolling the rubber over his dick without preamble.

She is _done _waiting.

Once it’s secured he flips them over, making Tessa laugh in surprise. “You want to be on top again?”

“Is that okay?” He asks, grabbing her knee and hitching it higher up on his waist.

“It’s great,” She nods, reaching between them to line him up – pausing to smile and then, without thinking about her words and their implications, asks, “But maybe next time we could switch?”

_Shit_. For half-a-second she worries she just ruined everything and that Scott will pull away, but he just beams at her and caresses her hair away from her face before kissing the bridge of her nose. “You bet, Virtch. Any position you want, you name it.”

Well… if he’s offering…

“Ballet dancer?” She winks, giggling when he splutters in surprise before laughing along with her.

“I don’t know what that is, but I’m somehow not surprised that you know a sex position with that name.”

“It’s where we face each other while standing and you help support me while I raise one of my legs on your shoulder and you penetrate me. Technically I could just put my leg around your waist, but we both know I’m flexible enough to try it the harder way. I’ve never tried it before, but I’ve always wanted to.” She blushes as she describes it, but can’t hide how much she wants to try it. With him, specifically. It’s a fantasy she’s had ever since he arrived early to pick her up from a barre class four years ago and she caught him blatantly checking her out in the mirror.

“Tess,” Scott groans, rolling his head to the side to bury it in the crook of her neck, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Is that weird?”

“No it’s not weird. It’s fucking sexy as hell.” He laughs in disbelief, and Tessa does a funny sort of wiggle beneath him in victory. “Yes we can try that, babe. You just name the day.”

_Next week? Tomorrow? This afternoon? Right after this? _

“Okay.”

Scott kisses her then, full of heat and affection, and Tessa smiles against his lips – returning each one with as much enthusiasm as she can muster. Her whimpers turning into moans when he slowly pushes into her, making her feel each inch as it disappears inside her until he bottoms out, then gradually pulling back out.

His movements are slow, measured, and controlled. Drawing almost completely out of her each time before thrusting back in. Until they’re both sweaty and panting, their bodies so taut that even the slightest touch could set them off and Tessa’s fairly certain neither her brain nor body will recover. He’s literally touched every inch of her this morning – with his hands, his mouth, his body – and now he’s proceeding to have sex with her that’s somehow both the slowest and most heated sex she’s ever had. Like molten lava, spreading through her body and changing its composition forever.

She should be scared. She should be _terrified_. To be sharing so much with him when there’s no guarantee any of it counts. But she can’t stop. Can’t help but keep asking for _more_.

“_Faster,” _Tessa groans, grabbing his ass with both hands and trying to encourage him to move, “Come on, Scott.”

“Wait,” He gasps, stopping completely halfway inside her and taking a break to kiss across every inch of her chest that he can reach, licking the sweat off her body while apparently trying to calm himself down, “Just wait.”

“Wait for _what_?” She groans, tugging impatiently at the roots of his hair so that she can find his mouth and smash her lips against his for a searing kiss. “It’s been over an hour and I need you.”

Scott lifts his head at that, glancing over at the clock on his nightstand with raised eyebrows, and Tessa could almost laugh at the shock on his face if she didn’t want to kill him for this prolonged (amazing, spectacular, magical, life-changing) torture.

He laughs in utter amazement, the vibrations of his body against hers shooting bolts of pleasure up her spine, heightening her awareness of where they’re so intimately connected and making her shift against him. “Holy shit. I hadn’t noticed. This just feels so good, like this, with you. I don’t want it to ever end.”

_Oh_.

He’s… savoring this. Maybe going slow does mean to him what it means to her. Hope, real hope, beats freely inside her chest for the first time in a long time and Tessa softens – gently stroking his hair and wishing she could tell him everything that's in her heart. “Has it ever been like this for you before?”

_Please say no, please say no, please say –_

“No.” He shakes his head. “No, it’s never been like this.”

“Me either,” She whispers, pressing her forehead against his again and sucking in a deep breath – holding him close.

He speeds up his pace, hitching her leg over his waist to give them a better angle, and sets a rhythm that’s both intense and deep. They can’t kiss like this, too breathless and caught up in keeping up with each other’s thrusts, but they keep their mouths pressed together anyway, breathing in the same air and gasping each other’s names.

He shifts just enough to slide one hand between them and with a flick of his fingers, Tessa finally comes – crying out his name intermingled with some rather creative curse words as she falls apart, her orgasm long and drawn out and triggering his own.

Scott thrusts a few more times, riding out his high and prolonging hers, then collapses on top of her. But doesn’t linger for very long (not nearly as long as she wants him to), instead managing to kiss her before shifting to the side so that she isn’t being crushed – leaving his hand resting over her racing heart.

"That was –“ She starts, covering his hand with hers over her sternum and lacing their fingers together.

“The best sex I’ve ever had.” He finishes for her with a tired, sated smile.

Understatement of the century.

She’s overwhelmed by the emotions flooding her body in the aftermath of her orgasm. The love, the affection, the irresistible urge to declare her lifelong devotion. If she doesn’t do something fast she’s going to cry and so she wipes the corners of her eyes and quickly says, “Yeah. Unexpectedly intense, but yeah.”

“Intense bad?” He asks, struggling to prop himself up on his elbow in his exhaustion, and she can see by the way his brow is starting to furrow that he’s worried he’s upset her somehow.

As if that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“No,” She rushes to reassure him, hoping to set his mind at ease with the touch of her hand on his cheek, “No way. The polar opposite of bad.”

"So what’s the jury’s verdict then?” He teases, not fighting it when his elbow gives out and he’s forced to lay back down, snuggling into her side.

“Oh,” Her mouth goes comically round at the reminder, having forgotten their earlier conversation, but then curves into a much more calculated smile, her eyes flashing with mirth as she rolls onto her side to look at him. “They said you got off scot-free.” 

He bursts out laughing and she joins in, reaching for each other as they giggle and grin like idiots. “Tessa Virtue, I can’t believe you figured out how to make a dirty joke and a pun in the same sentence.”

“Didn’t you hear?” She dances her fingers up his ribcage, make him snort and squirm, “I’m really smart and a good listener. I learn quickly.”

“Oh, I know,” He grins, “It’s one of the many reasons that I lo-“

Tessa’s heart stops just as the monitor lights up with bright green lights and Hannah starts to cry, demanding attention and bringing their bubble crashing back down to reality.

“Do you want-“

“I should –“

They both laugh and he sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed with renewed energy and wobbling a little when he stands up. “I’ll throw some clothes on and go get her. You take a shower.”

“Okay,” She agrees quietly, getting out of bed and already tiptoeing in the direction of his bathroom – not at all opposed to his suggestion and eagerly inching towards his shower, “I’ll be quick.”

“Take your time. We’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done. Do you want pancakes?”

She pops her head around the corner of the bathroom door and grins. “Sure. That sounds delicious.”

“Then pancakes it is.”

Tessa watches as Scott throws on a t-shirt and some cut-off sweatpants she’s pretty sure date back to before his tenure with the Leafs, sighing a little at his body being hidden from view, and then offers him one last dorky wave before turning back towards his amazing shower with no small amount of anticipation.

His shower might be – no, definitely _is_ – the best feature in his entire apartment. Duel rainfall showerheads, plus a third on the wall that’s handheld if needed. It feels like standing underneath a waterfall of warmth and joy and more than once she’s fallen asleep here on purpose in the hope that she’ll get to use it in the morning. There’s plenty of space for two people and a bench on one side that would be perfect for… _activities_… activities she can now imagine quite realistically, and part of her wants to call for Scott and ask him to join her. But he has Hannah to look after and she really needs to get to work, so that will have to wait for another time.

If there is another time.

Her breathing stutters and her hands pause halfway through working his shampoo into her hair – lyrics from a Taylor Swift song lingering unfinished on her tongue.

She’d mentioned it earlier. An accidental slip of the tongue when daydreaming about what other positions they might try. And Scott had seemed amenable (more than amenable, really) to the idea. But that’s no guarantee that it will actually happen. They’d only agreed to having sex one time, and she’s already not sure if doing it again this morning violates that agreement. What if he’s totally content now and any desire that was there is totally out of his system?

But the look in Scott’s eyes when he’d asked if they could take it slow pops into her head, and she has to stop washing her hair to wrap her arms around her ribs. Trying to hold onto some sort of composure.

_Love_. It had looked like love. And before Hannah’s monitor went off she could have sworn he was about to say that he loved her.

But what kind of love? She knows he loves her as a best friend. They’ve said as much on multiple occasions. Their recent conversation the night of his concussion comes to mind. _“I love you, too, Virtch. I don’t say it enough, but you know that, right? Love you more than anything.” _Although he’s never said it before with quite that same look in his eyes that he’d had this morning.

But that doesn’t mean he’s _in _love with her the same way she is with him… does it?

Tessa quickly gets back to work to avoid that train of thought. Rinsing the shampoo from her hair and squirting out the rest of Scott’s conditioner into her hand – making a mental note to buy him more later. It doesn’t take long to finish up and she resolutely sings all of the words to _Blank Space _on repeat to keep any other thoughts out of her head.

Once she’s finished up and all dried off (is that a few hickeys she spots in the mirror?), she heads towards Scott’s closet in search of something to wear. Her blue silk dress from the night before is cute, but not exactly the comfiest thing to put on first thing in the morning, and she doesn’t want to risk spilling syrup on it or whatever other toppings Scott’s assembled for their pancake buffet so instead she grabs one of his t-shirts and pulls it over her head before spending a good five minutes searching his bedroom for her underwear.

(It was hanging off the back of his TV – how it ended up there she has no idea.)

Tugging it on, she follows after the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. She can’t wait to have breakfast with him and Hannah. She’s even willing to show up a few minutes late to work for it. “Hey, Scott, I used up the rest of your conditioner so you’re going to need –“

She comes to a complete stop – frozen at the sight of Chiddy standing in front of the stove next to Scott, their friend’s mouth falling open and a half-eaten strawberry tumbling from his fingers and landing on the floor with a pitiful thud.

Scott stares at both of them, his eyes scanning her outfit, lingering on her bare legs, before dragging upwards to her wet hair, then looks back at Chiddy in mortification, and Tessa feels a flash of pain lance through her chest. _Is he embarrassed to be caught with me here like this? _

The gears are spinning loudly inside Chiddy’s head, and she can see him putting two and two together. Drawing what can only be described as an obvious conclusion from their reactions and Tessa’s state of undress. And for half a second she hopes Scott might intervene. Might say something to justify her hope and soothe her doubts all in one. But instead he just continues to stare at Chiddy with beet red ears, mouth opening and closing in silence.

“Oh. My. God.” Chiddy points an accusing finger at both of them, bouncing back and forth while his mouth gapes like a fish. “Oh my god! Did you two finally –“

“I have to go to work!” Tessa shouts the words as loud as she can to shut him up, then spins around on her heel and marches back in the direction she came from.

She can’t take this. Can’t possibly sit in the kitchen eating pancakes while Chiddy interrogates them both with a million questions. Questions she doesn’t know the answers to. He’ll want to know what’s going on between them, and Tessa doesn’t think she can bear to hear Scott say this was just a one-off thing between friends – even if it’s technically true. Not when she wants to scream from the rooftop that she loves him.

Besides, whatever this morning was to Scott, it was beyond special to her and she couldn’t bear any of Chiddy’s teasing about it.

She has to go home.

“Scott!” Tessa pokes her head around the corner again, having now collected her purse and jacket and dress and commandeered his slippers for the journey home, as well as placing an order for an Uber to pick her up ASAP. “I’m borrowing these okay? Just to get home in.”

“Sure, Virtch,” He agrees easily, just like always, but seems to tighten under Chiddy’s watchful gaze. A look that does nothing to quell her rising anxiety. “Do you need a ride home?”

“No, I called an Uber. It should be hear any second so I’m going to head down to the lobby. Thank you again for –“ Her face floods with heat. What could she possibly say? _Thanks for the mindblowing sex? For making me love you even more than I did before? _“ – For the birthday party and all of the work you put into it, and for letting me crash here. On the couch. It’s a nice couch, so thanks.”

That was the wrong thing to say and she knows it the instant the words are out of her mouth because Chiddy arches one single skeptical eyebrow and smirks with way too much understanding.

She’s never once spent the whole night on the couch here, and now he’s going to know something’s up for certain.

“Bye, Hannah-banana!” Tessa blows her a kiss and waves at her, wishing she could stay longer and spend some proper time with her favorite little girl, and Hannah attempts to wave back - sticking her arm straight out and twisting her hand in that funny way she’s started learning lately. “Bye, Scott. I’ll call you.”

She sort of stares at him for a second, her last words hanging in the air like a question, then spins around again and rushes out the door, wincing when it slams shut behind her.

****

This is awkward.

Scott sits across the table from her, his silence a sharp contrast to the noises and chaos of the café around them, looking somehow handsomer than ever, but more reserved, too. Uncomfortable and restrained in a way she fears is because of her.

Tessa doesn’t want to say she’s been avoiding him, because that would be an extreme reaction and she _isn’t_. But in the forty-eight hours since she last saw him she hasn’t exactly gone out of her way to talk to him, either.

Not because she doesn’t want to! God knows he’s been the only thing on her mind since they had sex (work on Friday had been a disaster – she really should have called in sick), but it’s hard to look at him now that she knows what it’s like to feel loved by him, but without any knowledge or hint as to what he’s actually thinking or feeling. She keeps flip-flopping on whether or not he was going to say he loves her and whether or not he meant it romantically - even going so far as to pluck the petals off of one of the daisies growing outside her house in search of an answer.

She hates not knowing things. It makes her feel off-kilter and unsure of what to do or say or how to behave, and that in turn generally leads to her putting her foot in her mouth. There’s been more than one occasion when she’s said something well-intentioned in the worst way in the heat of the moment and lived to regret it.

He’s being very quiet this morning – his jaw tense and his eyes far away while he sips absentmindedly on his coffee – and that does nothing to ease her nerves. Surely if he’s in love with her, he would have found a way to tell her, right? Scott doesn’t usually hold back on his emotions – good or bad. If he's not saying anything, then he probably doesn't feel anything. 

(But there was that _look _in his eyes...) 

As agonizing as seeing him is during this period of _The Unknown _(as she’s taken to calling the last two days in her head), this morning she’d bitten the bullet and asked if they could meet up for Sunday brunch because she and Jordan have finalized their trip plans and Scott deserves to hear it from her first that she’s leaving for a few weeks, rather than having the news sprung on him again. But now she’s kind of wishing she’d just sent him a text instead. Anything to save herself from this palpable tension between them. It’s so thick she’s surprised the waitress can talk to them through it.

Thank god he’d brought Hannah with him. One, because it means adorable baby cuddles to brighten up her morning, and two, because she provides a pleasant buffer between them. One that requires attention and nourishment and entertainment – peek-a-boo is a current favorite - and can’t be ignored in favor of a serious conversation. It saves them from sitting there until the other breaks.

(Okay, so maybe Tessa’s kind of avoiding him. Sue her.)

“I think she has a new tooth coming in,” She says, smiling and kissing Hannah’s cheek, “Next to the other one she has on the bottom. You can kind of see a white spot peeking through her gums.”

“Oh, yeah.” He shakes his head as if clearing away whatever he was thinking and slouches a little more casually in his chair. “Yeah I noticed that yesterday morning. She’s growing so fast now.”

“Don’t get all weepy on me, Dad,” Tessa teases, bouncing Hannah on her knee and pulling ridiculous faces to make her laugh, daring to prod a little at Scott’s silence through the medium of jokes, “You’ve been in a funk all morning. Is it because she’s hitting another milestone? These are good things, Scott. I can’t wait until she starts talking for real.”

"I have not and no.” He shakes his head and reaches across the table to brush Hannah’s hair away from her forehead. “I’m glad she’s hitting more milestones.” 

“You have been in a funk, though,” Tessa shoots back, shocked by her own bluntness, but grateful all the same. _Rip it off like a Band-Aid_, _Tess,_ _let’s go_. As much as she dreads it, the sooner they have this conversation the sooner they can move on from it. “Are you going to tell me why or do I have to guess?”

“I’m not in a funk,” He insists, somewhat ruining the effect by tearing his bagel in half and sending crumbs and poppy seeds everywhere, “I’m just… pensive.” Scott scoops up the flakes in his hand and brushes them off onto a napkin, balling it up and sticking it under his plate and looking unusually grumpy.

“Okay, now I know you’re in a funk. You’ve never used the word pensive before.” Hopefully some gentle teasing is the way to get him to open up. Maybe he’s just nervous and needs the reminder that she’s hear to listen.

Even if what he has to say breaks her heart.

His voice is a little snarky when he replies, “You’re not the only one who listens, T, I have picked up some of your vocabulary over the years,” but she tries not to let it get to her. Apparently pushing him is not the way to go.

“Fine,” She sighs, equally frustrated and terrified by this situation, “Are you going to tell me why you’re pensive this morning? Has something happened? Is this about -” Her cheeks turn pink as her voice trails off, making the implication clear. _Is this about Friday morning?_

_Are you in love with me or did you just get carried away? _

“Not really. Just got a lot on my mind,” He hesitates, missing the way her face falls, and then adds, “Chiddy and Liz are dating.”

Okay, she definitely wasn’t expecting that turn in the conversation, and she has to take a few seconds fish for a book out of Hannah’s diaper bag to adjust to this new topic. His unwillingness to even so much as mention their night together can’t be a good sign.

“I know that.” She swallows and looks up from the book she was letting Hannah flip through, scrunching up her face to hide her disappointment. “Everyone does, even though they think we don’t. It’s so obvious. I wish they’d just admit it already, but maybe there are HR reasons why they can’t.”

“I know, I’ve just been thinking…" Scott looks up at her, his gaze suddenly intense, and Tessa couldn't look away even if she wanted to, "If someone has feelings for someone else, don’t you think they should be honest about it? Even if it might not turn out the way they want, don’t you think it’s better in the long run to have everything out in the open instead of keeping it hidden? Don’t you think keeping secrets hurt more, eventually?”

Fuck.

He knows. He knows that she’s in love with him and he doesn’t feel the same way. That’s why he doesn’t want to talk about Friday. That’s why he’d been so weird with Chiddy when they got caught that morning. It really was just a one-time thing to him and he doesn’t know how to tell her that it’s over.

You think she’d be used to the sound of her heart breaking by now.

Hannah cries out at being ignored, and Tessa quickly moves to placate her. “Sorry, Han, sorry,” She scrambles to grab Hannah’s favorite teething toy out of the diaper bag and hand it to her, “Here you go, sweetheart.”

She turns back to Scott once Hannah’s content again and distracted by the toy, refusing to meet his eyes. Her voice sounds unnaturally cheerful and lighthearted even to her own ears when she says, “What are you trying to say, Scott? That Chiddy should at least stop trying to hide his relationship to you, me, and Jeff? Because I agree. He’s dreadful at it.”

Maybe being deliberately obtuse will save her from this conversation. She thought she was ready, but she isn't. She might never be ready.

Scott takes a deep breath and starts picking apart the bagel, unclenching his jaw and probably wishing he had something more solid to chew on. A trait she probably should be disgusted by, but actually finds kind of attractive in the right context. “I’m just wondering if you think that honesty is the best policy – in any relationship, friendly or otherwise – or if you think keeping secrets is okay, if they’re kept in the best interest of the other person.”

He wants to know if she’s keeping secrets. Specifically secrets from him. And Tessa has no idea how to answer that question. If he knows she’s in love with him and is planning on turning her down, why force her to say the words out loud? Why put her through that? Surely Scott wouldn’t be that cruel.

“I –“ She swallows and reaches for her coffee, taking a long drag before setting it back down with shaking hands. “I’m not sure… I don’t… Are you asking me if I –“

“Excuse me,” A woman interrupts, shifting the weight of the toddler on her hip and smiling at the pair of them – clearly ignorant of the tension she’s just unwittingly stepped into, “I just have to tell you how adorable your little girl is. She has to be one of the cutest babies I’ve ever seen. I love that you wore matching outfits.”

“Oh,” Tessa pauses with half a courtesy smile on her face, looking down at her and Hannah’s matching pink shirts and jeans – noticing them for the first time – before glancing awkwardly over at Scott, “Um… thank you.”

“You’re a lucky Mama.”

“No –“ Tessa stammers, rushing to correct this stranger in case Scott is offended by the assumption, “I’m not her–“

“Ma-ma,” Hannah repeats the word, and time stands still. Never before has Tessa felt such a sweeping sense of elation followed by a more pitiful thud of grief. Hannah likes making new sounds and mimicking the easier syllables that she hears the adults around her say, and this is definitely a case of her repeating gibberish without understanding what she’s saying or the implications, but even so the _want _seizes Tessa’s heart like a vise.

_If only it were real. If only our lives were that simple. If only Scott wanted us to be a proper family._

The woman smiles again and walks away and Tessa chuckles awkwardly before quickly handing Hannah over across the table, guessing that Scott might want _his _daughter back now and looking anywhere but at him. “Sorry about that. People make silly assumptions, eh?”

Scott stares at her for a long time, his expression unreadable, before finally saying. “You didn’t answer my question.”

_Damn it_.

“No, I didn’t.” She starts spinning the rings around her middle finger and fidgeting in her chair, struggling to come up with an answer. “Um… I believe in being honest, but I also think that sometimes it’s okay, if you know that being honest might upset the other person, to keep secrets – depending on what they are. If keeping the secret protects them or if it’s something you know they might not be ready to hear. Sometimes there are things we want to say, or have wanted to say for a long time, that we keep secret because it… because it might cause one of us pain.”

_Me_, she silently adds, _it might cause me pain_.

"Even if the other person would want to know, good or bad, ready or not?” Scott presses, leaning in closer over the table, and she has to fight the warring urges inside her body – one shouting to move closer to him, the other screaming to run away – and stay still.

"I’m confused,” She tries to laugh, but it comes out more distorted and choked than anything, “Are we still talking about Chiddy?”

“Tess,” He sighs, “I know –“

“I have something to tell you,” She blurts out, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. It’s terrible behavior, stopping him from speaking even though he should be allowed to express his thoughts and feelings, no matter they are, but she just isn’t ready. “I’m leaving.”

“You’re what!?” His whole body jerks wildly, his limbs shooting out in every direction as he sits up as straight as a rod, and the salt shaker that had been sitting precariously close to the edge of the table plummets to the floor, shattering upon impact.

There’s chaos all around them as the waiter cleans it up, but Scott doesn’t seem to notice anything but her. His face has gone a color that can only be described as green and there’s an almost terror in his eyes that Tessa rushes to subdue.

“With Jordan,” She clarifies, “In the interest of being honest, like you were just saying, I thought you should know about it. We’re going on a school tour to see all of the campuses where I’ve been accepted and meet with the professors and get a feel for what they’re really like. I want to make an informed decision, you know? Go into this with my eyes wide open.”

“Oh.” Scott somewhat relaxes, although she can see his hands still clenched where they rest in his lap around Hannah. Another awkward silence descends and as the seconds tick on Tessa’s heart starts to pick up its pace. Each thump coming on the heels of the last one until it’s thundering away inside her chest waiting for his response.

None comes, and Scott stares silently at her – his eyes lingering on the necklace she’s wearing long enough for her to remember that she’d picked this specific one out of her jewelry box that morning on some wild flight of fancy that he might tell her he loves her over a shared biscotti. _Ha!_

It’s a delicate little gold thing with a French inscription on it that she’d seen in a shop when she was seventeen and fallen in love with. He'd ended up buying it not long after he was signed by the Maple Leafs – ordering it special for her from Paris and dismissing her protests about cost and hassle with a wave of his hand._ Toujours_, it says, _always. _She’d been sentimental putting it on earlier – a fact she feels silly about now.

“When do you leave?”

Tessa reaches for her coffee again, hiding behind the rim of the large mug when she says, “Thursday.”

Scott’s eyebrows shoot towards his hairline. “How long will you be gone?”

“Three weeks.”

“That’s,” He forces out a cough, “Kind of a long time.”

It is long, but she and Jordan had agree to make a vacation out of it, and she won’t deny that she’s looking forward to doing some traveling with her sister. If only the timing wasn’t so inconvenient. "Well,” Tessa takes a deep breath and sets her coffee back down, trying to give him a cheerful smile that probably looks as fake as it feels. “It’s both a reconnaissance tour and a vacation rolled into one. We’re going to do some sightseeing in each city, too, to see if it’s the kind of place I can see myself living someday. One week in Connecticut, one in Boston, and then one in Vancouver.”

“Saving the best for last, eh?” His voice is surprisingly harsh, bitter and snarky, and Tessa flinches, her smile disappearing.

“Something like that. Vancouver has a really great school, Scott,” She argues quietly, picking at her breakfast so that her hands have something to do other than use her rings to rub her skin raw, and she sees him flinch out of the corner of her eye. It's not that she's really considering Vancouver more than anywhere else, but her own stubbornness refuses to cower in the face of his sarcasm.

“I’m sure it does.”

“You won gold in Vancouver.” She reminds him, hoping that will bring a smile to his face, but Scott just snorts.

"I sure did.”

“We enjoyed our time there, remember?”

“I do. We had fun together.”

He emphasizes the word _together, _lingering on each syllable, and Tessa wants to scream. Why is he being like this? Why can’t he just say what’s going on in that head of his instead of giving her mental whiplash?

_Oh right, _she realizes with a grimace, _because I wouldn’t let him_.

Maybe if she hadn’t stopped him from saying he doesn’t love her he wouldn’t be so upset with her.

Tessa takes a deep breath through her nose, trying to inhale around the guilt. “And I have to think about my career, not just what’s convenient right now.”

“I understand.” He nods and his face falls, the sarcasm disappearing, and suddenly for some inexplicable reason he looks _sad_. Not just sad, but devastated. Like she’s taking away his favorite toy. And she doesn’t understand why. If his secret _isn’t _that he’s not in love with her, if he truly doesn’t want her to leave Toronto, if he wants her to stay with him, why not just tell her that?

Maybe he just needs an opening.

“And, I mean, what’s keeping me in Toronto?” The instant the words leave her mouth she knows it was the wrong thing to say. Scott looks like she just slapped him across the face and he kicks back from the table with enough force to rattle the building, almost tipping the chair over in his haste to stand up.

“Nothing, right?” He scoffs, settling Hannah into her stroller before pulling out his wallet and tossing a wad of cash onto the table that's probably three times the cost of their bill.

“Scott, wait!” She jumps up out of her chair and rushes around the side of the table, nearly bashing her hip into the corner in her hurry to stop him from leaving and make things right. “What are you –“

“I have to go.” He shakes her hand off his arm and brushes her aside. “I have to… go to the dentist.”

Tessa reaches for him again, her fingers wrapping around his wrist – trying to hold him there while she sort of shakes her head and plants her feet. “But it’s Sunday.”

“It’s an emergency appointment. I’ll call you later. Have a nice, trip, Virtch.” Scott shakes her off again and pushes Hannah’s stroller towards the door, but she can’t let him leave like this. Not with her own stupid misspoken words causing him such pain. His pain is as her own and she won’t be able to live with herself if they don’t resolve this.

“Are you seriously leaving right now?” She grabs her purse and follows after him, ignoring the stares from the other café patrons and staying close by his side as they step out onto the busy street. “I think there’s been a horrible misunderstanding. This isn’t how I meant to tell you. I said it all wrong. I –“

“Look, Tessa,” He pinches the bridge of his nose and visibly takes a deep breath before turning to face her. “I really do have to go, but I hope you have a nice vacation with Jordan.”

"Scott,” She grabs his hand and laces their fingers together, praying he won’t push her away, “I didn’t mean there wasn’t anything to keep me here, you know that right? I was hoping that – it doesn’t matter. The point is it was a stupid thing for me to say. I’m sorry.”

“Listen, T,” He sighs and gently releases her hand, sending phantom pain shooting up her arm, “You have to do what’s right for you, okay? I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Scott…” She folds her arms over her chest, tucking her hands underneath her armpits for added comfort, trying to hold herself together lest she fall apart here on a Toronto sidewalk in the middle of a quiet May morning.

“I’ll text you later, okay? We can do movie night on Wednesday before you leave – anything you want. And I'll ask Jeff to make that popcorn you like with the M&Ms mixed in.”

His voice is soft, if strained, and something tells her there won’t be any more movie nights. At least, not for a while, and not like they’ve been in the past. He’s hurt and it’s her fault. She shouldn’t have stopped him – they should have just talked about having sex and what it meant first thing after it happened and then neither of them would be standing here right now in such distress. “I think we should talk about this.”

Scott shakes his head, already looking towards where his car must be parked. “We will when you get back, okay?”

She searches his face for a long time, her eyes roaming all over in an effort to find any trace of willingness to stay and work this out, but she finds only the determination to go. She lets out a shaky little sigh and nods. "Okay.”

“Bye, Virtch.”

"Goodbye, Scott.”

Tears slowly stream down her cheeks as she watches him go, and when he rounds the corner and disappears, it feels like an ending.

****

“Jordan, I don’t really feel like going out tonight.” Tessa shakes her head at her sister and goes back to looking out over New Haven Green, ignoring Jordan’s sad eyes and the pretty dresses she’s holding up in her hands like a peace offering. The view from their hotel room window is very pretty, all lit up in the evening glow, and if she squints some of the buildings almost looks like they could belong in Toronto.

_It doesn’t feel like home though. _

“You haven’t felt like going out any night this week,” Jordan groans behind her, tossing the dresses onto her bed and tightening her fluffy white robe around her waist, “But we’re supposed to be on vacation and I’m tired of watching you mope all over New Haven. It’s killing my buzz. Some of us actually _like _this city and want to enjoy all that it has to offer.” Jordan puts both of her hands on her waist and frowns, and Tessa turns to face her – mimicking her stance and offering a frown of her own.

“I’m not moping.”

“Yes,” Jordan sighs, unwrapping the towel around her hair and reaching for the blow dryer hooked to the wall, “You are, and I know the perfect cure.”

_Scott? _Tessa thinks hopefully, allowing herself to imagine for one moment that he’s about to burst through the hotel room door with a smile on his face.

“Dancing,” Jordan smirks, stopping Tessa’s mind from wandering any further down that happy, but ultimately disappointing path.

The high-pitched, angry whirring from the blow dryer prevents her from responding the way she wants, which is probably a good thing. She doesn’t want to argue with Jordan, and it would be pointless to try. Besides, it’s not her sister’s fault that Tessa’s been in a funk all week. No, the blame for that lies solely at her own perfectly painted (thank you, Jo) toes.

It really isn’t fair to New Haven, either. On the whole the city is actually quite nice. The New England summer hasn’t fully began yet, so all of the green spaces are still awash with the springtime bloom. There’s plenty of old architecture to keep her interested on their walks, and the Beinecke Rare Book Library had been just as amazing as Jordan had promised. Not to mention the lovely professors she’s been introduced to and the history that breathes throughout the Old Campus.

A tiny part of her enjoys the _Gilmore Girls _of it all, too, and she and Jordan have had a lot of fun competing to find the perfect lookalikes for each of the characters – laughing over a particularly spot-on replica of Paris Gellar shouting at another student and sharing secret smiles over a boy that looked eerily a lot like Logan.

It’s clear that Jordan feels in her element here. There hasn’t been a single day that she hasn’t bumped into someone she knows or wandered across a spot with some sort of personal meaning or another, and Tessa loves that for her. Loves watching Jordan so at ease surrounded by professors she can now call equals – arguing about the right to an education and debating the laws concerning children of undocumented migrants.

But as much as it suits her sister, Yale just isn’t for her.

Once you move away from campus, New Haven quickly blends in with every other sprawling urban city center. Sure there’s still the occasional older building with interesting architecture, but most of them have been commandeered by modern chain stores like CVS. The only benefit would be its proximity to Manhattan, but even Tessa’s love of live theatre isn’t enough of a draw to get her to commit the next three years of her life to this place.

(She makes a mental note to add New York City in the pro column of the list poking out of her purse in the name of being fair, even though she knows it’s not enough to even out the tallies currently lined up in the cons column.)

Jordan turns off the dryer and flips her hair back over her shoulder, now glossy and dry and perfect. “Some of my friends invited us to meet them at Café Nine tonight and you have to go. It’s a fantastic little music venue just a couple of blocks from here. They serve great beer and the best tacos you’ll ever eat.”

“That sounds great, but I checked the TV guide and channel sixty-three is doing back-to-back reruns of all of the Audrey Hepburn classics tonight. I haven’t seen _Roman Holiday _in forever!”

“No.” Jordan’s voice is resolute, and she marches over to the desk and picks up the controller before Tessa can protest or try to stop her, stuffing it inside her suitcase. “Not on my watch. You are coming with me tonight, you are going to drink and dance and sing off-key with the rest of us, and you are going to have a good time.”

“Clubbing isn’t really my –“

“- Scene,” Jordan finishes, rolling her eyes, “I know, and I don’t care. This isn’t just a reconnaissance trip, Tess, we’re supposed to be having fun. This is my vacation, too, and I want to spend it going out on the town with my sister, not sitting in a hotel room watching movies we already own at home.”

Sensing that this is an argument she has no hope of winning, Tessa sighs in defeat and nods – smiling a little when Jordan grins and pumps her fist high in the air before picking up one of the dresses and tossing it to her.

“Thanks,” Tessa laughs, catching it with ease and holding up the sparkles to the light, “Where’s the rest of it?”

“Oh please,” Jordan snorts, “I know you’ve been eyeing that dress in the back of my closet ever since I bought it. It’s going to look _amazing _ on you.”

Tessa giggles and doesn’t dispute her sister’s claim. She has been eyeing this dress for months, wishing for an occasion that might require borrowing it. She’d almost worn it to the concert with Matt, in fact, and in hindsight she wonders if that would have changed anything about the course of that evening and what Scott’s reaction would have been. It’s a short, sparkly thing so dark blue it’s almost black, and the entire back of the dress from the waist to the shoulders features strategic cutouts that reveal more than they conceal – all while leaving the front of the dress fairly modest. It’s incredibly sexy without being too over-the-top and Tessa _loves _it.

“I guess maybe going out tonight isn’t such a bad idea,” She concedes, biting her bottom lip to hide her smile, and Jordan laughs.

“Yeah, I guess not.”

The bar takes her by surprise. She’d been expecting something grander, more wild, more clubby, or, at the very least, _bigger_, but instead Jordan leads her down the street towards an older, small brick building with a giant red number nine painted on the front and blocky letters lit up in white over the door. It’s a far cry from the types of places Jordan usually drags her to in Toronto, but Tessa instantly likes it.

They’ve kept the original brick on the inside as well, decorating the walls with a hodge-podge collection of old black and white photographs and neon lights that give the place an intimate glow, and the stage in the corner is small enough to leave plenty of room for dancing.

“Isn’t this place great?” Jordan grins, leaning in close so that she doesn’t have to shout to be heard over the upbeat electric guitar cover of Bazzi’s _Mine _coming from the opposite end of the room.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tessa laughs, “You were right.”

“Thank you.” Jordan nods satisfactorily, clearly proud of herself, and Tessa laughs again and shakes her head. “Look! There’s Max and DJ and Marie – and good, they brought Kyler with them.”

“Who?” Jordan grabs her arm and drags her over to one of the tables without bothering to answer. There’s already a pretty impressive spread of half-emptied glasses of beer between the four of them, and she can tell by the rather enthusiastic greeting they give her and Jordan that they’re already well on their way to drunk, but they all seem to be so happy that their drunkenness becomes endearing, rather than alarming.

“Jay-Money!” Max jumps off his stool and half hugs, half slouches over Jordan – clapping her enthusiastically on the back. Even in heels, he towers over her. Honestly he must be pushing six foot seven and Tessa almost ducks and hides when he reaches for her next – his arms practically swallowing her whole. “And you brought Li’l T! Finally we get to meet the legendary little sister we’ve heard so much about!”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” Tessa laughs, her voice muffled by his corduroy jacket. She’s heard many stories over the years about Max and his antics. He’d been Jordan’s best friend at Yale and had even convinced her to spend one summer backpacking Europe with him and his boyfriend, resulting in Jordan nearly eloping with Danish royalty one drunken night in Copenhagen. It’s nice to finally put a face to the infamous name.

Jordan steps behind him and steals his seat, throwing her arm around DJ and brushing her hair to the side to give her a peck on the cheek – proving that it is possible to remain on good terms with an ex – and so Max grabs a chair from the table next to them and drops down onto that instead, pulling Tessa with him into his lap and handing her a cocktail that’s fruity and peach-colored and she hopes tastes as good as it looks.

“Let me introduce you,” Max gestures widely to the rest of the table, almost knocking over a few glasses and earning snickers from their companions, “This is DJ, who you probably already know about. Her real name is Dorothy Josephine, but don’t ever call her that,” He whispers the last bit loudly into her ear, earning a sharp kick in the shin from DJ and giggles from everyone else. Tessa offers DJ a friendly smile and a wave. It’s been a few years, but it wasn’t really that long ago that DJ was making regular visits to Ontario to visit Jordan, the two of them trying to make the long distance thing work after Jordan graduated from Yale and moved back home, and Tessa’s always been a little bit sad for her sister that it didn’t work out.

“That’s Marie,” He points at the girl with the bleached blonde pixie cut sitting across the table, who offers them a two-fingered salute in return, “She makes a mean potato salad. And that’s Kyler, DJ’s cousin. He just finished his first year of law school here.”

Tessa smiles at the dark curly-haired man, acutely aware of Jordan’s watchful gaze on both of them, and she tries not to show her aggravation as she realizes what this is. “Hi, Kyler, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” He smiles back, his brown eyes warm and as soft as his tan sweater, and Tessa feels an unwelcome fluttering in her stomach. He’s practically Seth Cohen if you aged him up a few years and added a beard, and Jordan knows better than anyone that Tessa had been a religious fanatic about _The O.C. _when she was sixteen. This isn’t playing fair and has all the subtlety of a molotov cocktail. “Jordan told us you’re starting law school yourself in the fall. That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, I just got my acceptance letters a couple weeks ago.” Max shifts out from underneath her to run across the bar and say hello to a group of men that just walked in, and Tessa’s grateful to have the chair all to herself. There’s much less risk of spilling her drink all over her dress without Max’s boundless energy bouncing around, and now she can freely fiddle with the rings on her finger without being noticed.

“Do you know what school you’ll be attending?”

“Not yet. Jordan and I are sort of doing this tour-vacation thing to help me decide.”

“You know, Tess,” Jordan cuts in, “Kyler would be a great person to ask about Yale, since we’re here. He’s got the most recent experience and can tell you what the first year was like.” Her look is pointed, her tone obvious, and Tessa’s grateful that the red neon lights are hiding her blush. Everyone in this bar is going to know Jordan’s intentions here. Everyone including the smiling man across from her who doesn't seem bothered by this set up in the slightest. In fact, given the way DJ is nodding encouragingly at him, he's probably in on it.

This isn’t what she was looking for at all on this vacation, nor is it what she was expecting to encounter when Jordan asked her to go out tonight, but maybe she should have seen this coming. It figures that Jordan would think the best way to get her mind out of Toronto would be to introduce her to a brand new social scene hundreds of miles away. One that just so happens to have an attractive man ready and available and more than willing to show her the better sides of New Haven.

Kyler nods. “I’d be happy to talk to you about my classes and answer any questions that you have.”

Jordan pokes her thigh underneath the table and Tessa swallows her retort. “You know what, Kyler, I don’t want to think about that tonight. I’d much rather dance. Would you like to join me?”

“Sure!” He grins and stands up, offering her his hand and caressing the back of hers with his thumb when she takes it. “I should warn you though, I dance like a white boy who grew up listening to too much indie music.”

“That’s alright,” Tessa laughs obligingly, “I can teach you a thing or two.”

His eyes darken and his fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around hers. “I’m sure you can.”

Her stomach fills with rocks and she tries to smile around her clenched teeth – tongue weighing heavy in her mouth. She hadn’t meant to sound flirtatious, but it’s clear he took it that way, and now she has no idea what to do or say next.

It’s all so confusing. Part of her – the sensible, realistic part that’s always had a tendency to be a bit of a downer and recognizes this for what it is – wants to go along with Jordan’s plan. Flirt with Kyler, dance with him, maybe let him kiss her. Cut loose and pretend for one night that she doesn’t have any cares or worries or regrets. She knows this is Jordan’s attempt at helping her get over Scott, and maybe that’s a good thing, but… Tessa’s just not sure it’s realistic. How does one go from the most magical night of their life with the man they love to a one-night stand with a practical stranger?

She loops her arms around Kyler’s shoulders and starts to sway to the beat of the music, not stopping him when his hands come to rest low on her hips so that he can follow her movements, even though it feels wrong, somehow. She’s done the whole rebound thing before, but usually it was after a clean break-up. Situations where she knew her relationship was over and the night was about having some fun and letting off steam.

The situation with Scott could not be more different.

First of all, they weren’t actually dating. Second, if their conversation at the café was a break-up, it wasn’t a very obvious one. Sure, they argued, but he’d wished her luck and said they’d talk when they got back, and he’s been texting and video-chatting with her off and on over the past week to keep her up to date with Hannah’s life and ask her about her trip (although he never asked about school – an oversight that hasn’t gone unnoticed by her). Third, and perhaps most confusing of all, she doesn’t actually _want _to get over Scott. Not yet. She wants to hold onto that moment they shared the morning after her birthday and live in it for a while longer.

“Is this okay?” Kyler moves behind her, keeping his hands on her hips but pressing his front to her back and starting to grind a little to the beat of _Finesse_. “You’re stunning. This dress looks gorgeous on you.” 

His hands slide a little slower, and Tessa goes stiff.

“I... I’m not feeling well. I have to go. Excuse me.” She extricates herself and walks away without looking back, heading straight for the table and grabbing her purse before marching towards the door – barely offering any explanation to Jordan other than muttered excuses about feeling sick and insisting that she stay behind and have fun with her friends. Kyler’s cute and polite and perfectly nice, but she just… she just _can’t. _

The night air is a welcome relief against her overheated skin and she makes her way through the cloud of smoke at the entrance of the club to walk around the side of the building where she can sag against the bricks and finally relax. Closing her eyes, she tilts her head back and tries to shut out the sounds of the city.

No, New Haven will never be right for her.

Her phone chirps insistently inside her purse and so Tessa pulls it out, unsurprised to find a few worried texts from Jordan that she quickly answers so that her sister won’t be compelled to follow her.

There are a few other texts from friends, a funny meme Jeff found online, a nice, but random, text from Nikita, and restaurant recommendations for when she reaches Vancouver from Chiddy, but her heart stops when she sees the red notification indicating that she has a voicemail. A voicemail from Scott.

Gingerly, she presses play and lifts the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Virtch, I –“ He starts slowly, his voice low and scratchy, before pausing for a moment to clear his throat, “ – I don’t really have much to say. I just was thinking about you and wanted to hear your voice. I hope you’re out having a good time with Jordan, although, maybe not _too _good,” He chuckles awkwardly, “I don’t want any drunken voicemails from you at three a.m.” But something in his voice tells her that maybe he wouldn’t actually mind that. He sounds almost… lonely, and her heart constricts painfully inside her chest. “Anyway, I guess there wasn’t really a point to this call other than to say hi and um… I miss you. I don’t think Chiddy and Jeff like me as much when you’re not around. They keep telling me I’m grumpy and need to stop pining and just tell you –“ He sighs, “- Anyway, here I am rambling into your voicemail. I’m sure you’re busy. I’ll stop now, but uh, if you want to call me back I’ll be up late tonight so you can, um, you can call if you want. Bye, Tess. I lo – I – yeah.”

The message stops and Tessa replays it three more times, just to make sure she didn’t miss anything. Trying _not _to think about his slip-up at the end and wonder if he's afraid to say he loves her now because he's worried she'll read to much into it, or because it means so much more than before (_don't hope it's the latter, Tessa, don't do it!)_. He definitely sounds sad, and there’s way more hesitation than she’s used to getting from Scott. Normally when he leaves voicemails they’re as loud and enthusiastic as he is. He’s hurting and she’s not sure why or if it has anything to do with her, but she needs to hear his voice and make sure he’s okay.

Before she can second-guess herself, Tessa dials his number – chewing anxiously on her thumbnail while she waits for him to pick up.

“Tess?” He answers on the second ring, “Hey! Hi!”

A burst of affection blossoms inside her chest at his excited greeting, and she finds herself smiling into the mouthpiece. “Hey. I got your message.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry about that,” He chuckles and she can practically hear him running his hand through his hair. “It didn’t really make much sense. Sorry if it was weird.”

“No, it wasn’t weird. I’m glad you called.”

"Yeah?”

“Of course. I always want to hear from you. Is everything alright? You sounded a little… I don’t know, bummed.”

“Oh,” He hesitates, “Nah. Just saw a sad commercial on TV that brought me down. It must have come through in my voice. I’m all good. Are you having fun with Jordan?”

"Yeah. It’s been good. New Haven is nice. She took me out dancing tonight with some of her friends.”

“That sounds like fun! I’m sure you’re the most beautiful girl there, probably got all the guys wanting to dance with you.” He goes quiet for a second, and Tessa winces awkwardly, wondering if she should tell him what just happened and grateful when he spares her the decision by quickly changing the subject. “What are you doing calling me if you’re out partying? It’s barely after nine.”

“Jordan’s still at the bar, but I wasn’t feeling it so I decided to head back to the hotel. Do you – um… will you keep me company on my walk?”

His response is immediate, “I’d love to.”

They talk about nothing and everything as she walks, just mindless small-talk that has her feeling lighter than she has in days. Scott tells her he’s currently in Ilderton for a few days to give Hannah some grandparent time and avoid Chiddy and Jeff who are, and she quotes, ‘unbearable.’ Although _why _they’re being so annoying, he won’t say. And in turn she tells him about all of New Haven’s better qualities, trying not to sound too disparaging about a city whose only real fault is that it isn’t Toronto.

They talk all through her walk, her bedtime routine, and up until she’s snuggled underneath the covers. Until the moon is high in the sky and Tessa can feel sleep tugging insistently at her eyelids.

“Go to bed, Virtch,” Scott laughs when she audibly yawns for the fifth time in as many minutes, and she giggles, “Get some sleep.”

“Okay,” She agrees, nodding even though he can’t see her and letting her eyes finally close, “You sleep, too.”

“Already in bed, T, no worries. Will you call me tomorrow?” He sounds hesitant again, unsure, and Tessa wishes he were here right now so that she could squeeze his hand and tell him everything she's been feeling. The good, the bad, the love, and the heartbreak. This conversation has been good for them. _Normal_. And she's starting to think that maybe everything would be better if they just got all of their thoughts and feelings out in the open, but that isn't a conversation to have over the phone. 

“If you want me to.”

“I always want you,” Her breath hitches, and he rushes to add, “To call, that is. Always want you to call. You know I love hearing all about your day and, you know, anything else you might want to tell me.”

Tessa tries to figure out if there’s subtext to that last statement, but her brain is too tired to work it out. In the end, she merely yawns again and agrees. “Then I’ll call.”

“Good,” He replies, sounding relieved, “That’s good. Sweet dreams, Virtch.”

“G’night, Scott.”


	5. i wanna be your companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa goes to Vancouver and meets someone unexpected from her past. Decisions are made. Birthdays are had. And maybe, just maybe, feelings are reciprocated. 
> 
> Coincides with chapter 16 of Change Directions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna be your companion  
I wanna be your companion  
Companion, your companion yeah
> 
> Why don’t we chase down the weekend?  
Hang like fools from the ceiling  
Even if it don’t really make sense  
I could get used to this feeling, this feeling!
> 
> I wanna be your companion  
I wanna be your companion  
Full of love and understanding  
I wanna be your companion, companion yeah
> 
> Why don’t we chase what’s between us?  
Until we know that we can keep up  
Until we know that we’ve come far enough  
I could get used to this feeling between us
> 
> I wanna be your companion  
I wanna be your companion  
Full of love and understanding  
I wanna be your companion, companion yeah
> 
> Oh yeah, oh yeah
> 
> Said I wanna be the one that you’re holding tight on a stormy night  
I’ll keep you warm and dry  
I wanna be the one that you’re holdin’ close  
When you’re growin’ old I just want you to know  
I wanna be the one that you’re holding tight on a stormy night  
I’ll keep you warm and dry  
I wanna be the one that you’re holdin’ close  
When you’re growin’ old I just want you to know
> 
> Let’s make love like we mean it  
For forever and a season  
Even if it’s just a secret  
I could get used to this feeling, I mean it
> 
> I wanna be your companion  
I wanna be your companion  
Full of love and understanding  
I wanna be your companion, companion yeah
> 
> I wanna be your companion  
I wanna be your companion  
Full of love and understanding  
I wanna be your companion, companion yeah
> 
> \- "Companion" by Humming House

** i wanna be your companion **

** **

“The Disability Rights Movement is part of the larger movement for human rights. It began in the 1960s, following and paralleling the Civil Rights, Vietnam, Feminist, and LGBTQ movements. Disability rights means equal opportunity and equal rights for people with disabilities. To steal a term from Professor Judy Mossaf, equality for people with disabilities is not Sesame Street equality – meaning treat everyone the same – but requires reasonable accommodations for our differences. Sometimes to level the playing field literally by removing physical barriers like stairs, or to allow people with learning disabilities extra time for taking an examination.”

Tessa sits up a little straighter in her hardbacked beige wooden chair, twisting slightly at the waist to try and alleviate some of the discomfort that comes from being back in a desk for the first time in too many years, and turns to a fresh page in her notebook. Strictly speaking, she probably isn’t supposed to be in this classroom given that she isn’t actually a student here, but when she’d seen the signs around campus advertising a guest lecture by Bonnie Sherr Klein on disabilities and social justice her interest had been piqued. She had to try to attend – secretly or not. What better way could there be to get to know a campus and its learning environment than sitting in on an actual lecture with her potential classmates and professors?

That’s her argument, anyway, should the need arise and one of the faculty members suddenly gets suspicious as to why a woman they’ve never seen before is currently tucked away in the back of the room furiously taking notes in a tiny 3x5 inch notebook she’d thankfully happened to have in her purse.

UBC has been surprising so far, in every good way imaginable. The campus is big, much bigger than she’d expected, but it’s contained enough that it still feels like a small community. Something that Tessa very much appreciates – she loves being surrounded by eager, bright-eyed, brilliant minds trying to learn and grow and succeed. It fuels her competitive side in the best way, inspiring her to push herself to her mental and academic limits. And it’s close enough to the water that should she ever need an escape or a quick break she could walk to the water’s edge in ten minutes or less.

The architecture isn’t as distinctive or beautifully aged as Harvard or Yale, but that’s not surprising given that it isn’t as old, and Tessa is finding the more she explores that she doesn’t mind the difference so much. It’s beautiful in its own way, and she loves all the glass windows that reflect the gorgeous greenery of Vancouver.

(Greenery she could appreciate more if it hadn’t been raining since their plane landed that morning, but that’s beside the point.)

“I want to ask you a question, and this is truly a question that I have, what makes it so hard to bring disability in as part of the larger human rights struggle? It’s been the hardest piece of the human rights struggle, and I’m not sure why. The hardest piece to achieve. So, I’m going to ask you if you have one word or phrase or concept that comes to your mind about why it’s been so hard to get disability rights and what the problem might be. Doesn’t have to be a legal answer,” Ms. Klein finishes her question with a playful smirk, and Tessa finds herself smiling back in surprise. She’s so used to finding all her answers in the legal tomes at her office, it hadn’t occurred to her that as a student she might be encouraged to think outside of the box.

It’s… liberating.

Students start to raise their hands, offering up various suggestions – some tentative, others confident – and Tessa dutifully writes down each one and Ms. Klein’s responses to them.

Her phone vibrates silently in her pocket, and Tessa retrieves it as surreptitiously as she can while trying not to disrupt the Q and A session, tucking her hair behind her ear and forcing herself not to scoff when she finds an impatient text from Jordan (who she knows isn’t really upset because Jordan had all but pushed her into the lecture before running off to shop at all of the local boutiques she’d found listed online).

**Jej: **Is your lecture over yet? If you want to go to Stanley Park today, we’re running out of time.

**Tessa: **Not yet. You should have just come with me – you would have enjoyed this.

**Jej: **No way. Shopping is much more fun. I found the cutest black silk jumpsuit at misch – it’s got this great plunging v-neck – you’re gonna love it.

**Tessa: **Jealous!

**Tessa: **Meet me at Stanley Park after this. It’ll save time.

**Jej: **Hopefully this rain will stop, otherwise I don’t think we’ll be meeting up anywhere that isn’t indoors.

**Tessa: **We have to go the park while we’re here.

**Jej: **Your tree can wait for decent weather, Tess.

Tessa sighs and slips her phone back into her pocket, glancing out the window at the rain and trying not to pout too obviously. This is the only drawback to Vancouver so far – the endless, oppressive, downpour.

Normally she likes rain. Loves the smell of petrichor, the gentle pitter-patter against her windows, the overall cozy feeling it invokes – especially when she can curl up on the couch with a good book - but right now she can’t help but glare at the offending grey clouds. Tessa turns back towards the front of the room but lets her pen rest limply in her hand while a few more students ask their final questions, her previous zeal having been washed away by the rain. She can’t come all the way to Vancouver and not visit Stanley Park. Not visit the _tree_. It wouldn’t be right. But now it looks like that might have to wait until tomorrow, if not longer.

Once the lecture comes to an end, Tessa packs up her few belongings – happily accepting friendly smiles and introductions from a few of the other students - and shrugs on her coat. She has another item to add to her pro column for UBC now, and with four days left to go before returning home she’s starting to think Vancouver might actually be a viable option for law school, much more than she’d previously anticipated.

The hallway is packed with students leaving one class and running off towards the next and Tessa barely takes one hesitant step into the melee before a bulky backpack knocks into her, forcing her to the side and shoving her into the back of an unsuspecting man in a corduroy jacket and a black baseball cap with the Batman logo printed on it in bright yellow.

“I’m so sorry!” She rushes to apologize as she rights herself, stepping away from him and giving his shoulder the once over to make sure she hasn’t caused any damage, and he turns around with a curious smile and raised eyebrows.

"Tessa?” He huffs out a laugh in disbelief. “Tessa Virtue?”

“Simon?” Tessa shuts her gaping mouth before she can make a complete idiot of herself, staring at him with wide eyes and trying to comprehend the image of the smiling, shockingly familiar man standing in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

“I go to school here, remember?” He chuckles and gestures for her to duck into a nearby alcove so that they’re no longer in danger of being run over. “You should. I think when we broke up you said, ‘Vancouver is just too far away for a long-distance relationship, Simon, it won’t work.’” He repeats her words with a smile and a twinkle in his eye, showing that he isn’t actually upset by their break-up (at least, not anymore. Tessa remembers quite a few tears at the time), and she lets out her own surprised laugh.

"I do remember, I just didn’t expect to see you. Don’t tell me you’re still working on your Master’s because six years –“

“No,” He cuts off her teasing with a snort and a shake of his head, “No I promise I finished that in the prescribed amount of time. I’m actually working on earning my doctorate in behavioral neuroscience now.”

“Wow,” Tessa breathes, feeling a strange pang of jealousy in her chest that she doesn’t like. After they graduated from Queen’s Simon had tried to convince her to move to Vancouver with him – talking endlessly of the things they could achieve together, her working on her law degree and him on his psych – but she couldn’t afford law school at the time. Not without going into an astronomical amount of debt. And UBC hadn’t felt right. So she’d broken up with him instead. It’s a choice she doesn’t regret, but sometimes she does wonder what her life might look like if she hadn’t had to delay earning her degree in order to save money.

“Yeah.” Simon smiles, rubbing the back of his neck and accidentally knocking his hat askew, and Tessa nearly reaches out and rights it for him like she used to. “I’m really enjoying it. But what about you? What are you doing here?”

“I’m touring the campus.” She gestures vaguely to the hallway around them, as if it represents the entire school. “Trying to decide where I want to finally earn that law degree.”

“That’s awesome!” He grins and wordlessly holds his arms up for a hug, waiting until Tessa nods and steps into it before wrapping his arms around her and giving her a friendly pat on the back. “I always knew you’d get there someday. You’re one of the smartest, most determined people I’ve ever met. We should celebrate! What are you doing right now?”

He releases her and Tessa steps backwards, feeling somewhat disoriented and a little embarrassed by his praise. Aren’t interactions with your exes supposed to be angry and bitter at worst, and awkward at best? But no, that was never Simon. Kind, generous, polite almost to a fault. There was a reason she’d dated him longer than any of the others, and he’d been the only boyfriend she would have even considered moving across the country for.

"I was going to meet up with Jordan. Why? What do you have in mind?”

“Do you want to grab dinner? I know a great place near here and I’d really like to catch up. But if you already have plans with your sister then I understand.”

“Um… I’d like that,” Tessa says, and she’s surprised to find she means it, “Let me just text her.”

Simon nods and pulls out his own phone to make a call, giving Tessa her privacy to shoot off a quick text to Jordan.

**Tessa: **You’ll never guess who I just bumped into.

**Jej: **Ryan Reynolds!

A laugh bursts out of her, and Tessa affectionately shakes her head. Jordan and her crush on the Green Lantern – a persistent part of her personality no matter how many people try to tell her that it wasn’t a good movie. It’s as endearing as it is ridiculous.

**Tessa: **No. Lol. Simon Brody.

**Jej: **Oh wow! It’s been a long time since I’ve heard his name.

**Tessa: **Yeah. He wants to get dinner. Is that okay?

**Jej: **Totally fine. I just got a call from my friend Yessi who moved out here after Yale – she wants to meet up, so this is perfect.

**Tessa: **Great! I’ll see you later tonight back at the hotel then.

**Jej: **Absolutely! Have fun! Tell Simon I say hello, and that I haven’t forgotten the five bucks he owes me. 😉

Tessa laughs again (she most definitely will _not _be bringing that up) and pockets her phone before turning back to Simon. “Jordan’s going out with some friends so I’m free to get dinner. Where do you want to go?”

Simon grins and gestures for her to leave the alcove, following close behind and falling into step with her as easily as if they’ve never been apart. “It’s a new farm to table place called Fable that’s only a few blocks away. Don’t worry – I always carry an umbrella so you won’t get soaked walking over there. That’s a habit you'll pick up if you decide to move here.”

They walk out of the doors and Simon pops the umbrella open over their heads before holding out his arm to her, and Tessa takes it with a smile and an extra spring in her step. “Lead the way!”

The restaurant, for being a new venue, is clearly already popular with the locals. It’s full of young adults chatting happily as they eat what looks (and smells) like delicious food. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, and the first word that comes to Tessa’s mind when they stumble in out of the rain is _brown_. Brown everywhere – the flooring, the walls, the furniture - but good shades of brown – colors that feel like they’d belong in a Hallmark home.

The walls are made of exposed brick and the light fixtures feature overlapping giant pitchforks that should be terrifying to have hanging overhead but somehow aren’t, and all of the furniture is made from thick dark-stained wood that looks handcrafted. It’s exactly the kind of place Tessa would expect from trendy Vancouver, and she instantly falls in love with it.

“Are you still vegetarian?” Simon holds out a chair for her at a small table in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, nodding at the hostess who seems to know him, and Tessa shakes her head as she sits down. “Because they have a mouthwatering pan seared gnocchi here that I think you’d really love.”

“No, I gave that up a few years ago,” Tessa replies, patting down her hair and brushing through some of the wet tangles, hoping the rain hasn’t made it look too crazy, “Scott likes cooking with meat too much for me to keep refusing. But gnocchi sounds great.” Although the waiter just brought their neighbors their food, and the salmon instantly has Tessa’s mouth watering. How does one choose between thick, cheesy pasta and salmon with brown butter, green beans, almonds, crushed potato? Would it be impolite of her to order multiple entrees?

“Ah, the two of you are still thick as thieves then?”

The waiter turns to them to fill up their water glasses, sparing Tessa from having to answer right away and saving her from an awkward spluttering reaction. Simon looks unruffled by his question, happily thanking their waiter and placing an order for an appetizer of charred beets that she hopes don’t taste as horrid as they sound, and she takes a quick gulp of water before replying.

“Something like that, yeah,” Tessa laughs, hoping that her cheeks aren’t turning too pink, “Can’t seem to shake him.”

"That’s good.” Simon nods, checking his smart watch and scanning through whatever messages he finds there. “Your friendship was always so inspirational. I’ve never met two people before who could be so close yet remain totally platonic. It made me completely rethink the way I see male and female relationships. It’s honestly probably part of the reason why I find behavioral psychology so interesting.”

“I –“ Tessa flounders for an appropriate response. What are you supposed to say when someone tells you that you’ve basically been a case study for their degree? (And if he writes a paper about them, can she read it?) His statements about being totally platonic aren’t exactly true anymore, and she doesn’t want to lie, but she also doesn’t really feel like getting into the particulars of her current relationship with Scott with her ex-boyfriend, so she settles for a simple, “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry if I wasn’t always understanding about it when we were together. I can admit now I was jealous a few times. I didn’t understand that the two of you really were just best friends.” The waiter returns with their plate of charred beets, the blackened vegetables making Tessa scrunch up her nose, and Simon digs in without hesitation. “I read a paper in class a few years ago where the authors hypothesized that people form opposite-sex friendships, in part, to acquire long-term mates, to gain short-term sexual access, and to gain physical protection. When we discussed it as a group I wanted to say, ‘Not my friend, Tessa!’ But I knew no one would believe me.”

_Yes, your friend Tessa_. _They would have been right not to believe you, _she thinks, surreptitiously lifting her finger underneath her nose to try and block out the smell. Whoever thought it was a good idea to cook beets, already an awful vegetable, beyond recognition must have been crazy. It’s the smell, she justifies, not his incorrect assertions, that has her stomach churning.

_Short-term sexual access… is that all this has been? _

“It’s fine, Simon,” Tessa smiles politely, “I understand. What Scott and I have is very, um, different and I probably didn’t always make it easy on you.”

Hopefully that isn’t true. She likes to think she was a good girlfriend to him – and hey, she even went along with his Catwoman fantasies when he’d asked. But there definitely had been a few times when she’d prioritized Scott over the men she was dating, and Simon was no different. In hindsight, perhaps one of the reasons he’d wanted her to move to Vancouver was because he thought they’d have a better chance of success away from Toronto.

Maybe they would have.

Maybe she and Simon would be married with a house and a dog and graduate degrees. But it doesn’t matter now. It’s not the life she wanted.

“All water under the bridge.” Simon waves his hand and slides the half-eaten plate of beets over to her, smiling as he nods at her in encouragement and grinning when she obliges him by trying the smallest bite possible (swallowing it with a well-masked grimace). “Sometimes understanding just takes time and maturity. Life takes us where we’re meant to go, when we’re meant to get there, and not a moment too soon. The lamb shank is really good, too, if you’re interested.”

Grateful for the distraction, Tessa shifts the discussion to the options on the menu and the relative merits of cooking with kale over other types of greens (a topic Simon seems to have many thoughts on). Leaving her thoughts about Scott behind.

It’s nice, being here with him and catching up. Simple. There aren’t any lingering feelings to make things awkward (he tells her about his new fiancée, a lovely sounding woman named Bree who Tessa actually wouldn’t mind getting to know better), the gnocchi is just as delicious as she’d hoped, and halfway through dinner the clouds break just enough to reveal a gorgeous sunset – painting the sky in shades of amber and gold that feel positively magical.

Overall, her first day in Vancouver has been a dream. The memories she’d held dear since she was last here in 2010 bubble near the surface of her mind, adding a soft hue of nostalgia to everything, and she can honestly say what she’s seen of the university so far is more promising than the other schools she’s visited. There’s even a beautiful pond in the center of campus with water fountains and the school’s name written in raised letters – adding an overall calming effect to a place that could so easily become overwhelming.

Maybe Chiddy and her friends from the office weren’t wrong in singing its praises. Maybe… maybe UBC _is _the right choice for her after all.

"So,” Simon slides one of the dessert menus over to her with a knowing twinkle in his eye, “Enough about me. You said you were in town on some sort of law school tour, is that right?”

Tessa peruses the options on the menu, mourning the lack of chocolate options and wondering if the cherry ice cream sandwiches would be worth trying, and nods, “Yep. I’ve also visited Yale and Harvard. This is the third and last stop before I return home and make my decision.”

Simon rests his elbows on the table and leans forward, letting out an impressed whistle, but it’s the tone in his voice when he speaks that has Tessa looking up at him sharply. “That sounds great, but… you know you’re not going to choose UBC, right?”

"Excuse me?” She sets the menu aside. Without knowing where this conversation’s about to go, she’s not sure if she wants to order dessert now and risk prolonging it. Too many people have had opinions on her education and if Simon thinks he has any right to be one of them after six years then -

“Come on, Tess,” He chuckles, pausing to place two orders for maple crème caramel and promising that she’ll love it when she tries to say no, “It’s U of T. It’s always been U of T. When we were together that’s the only law school you ever talked about.”

Okay, he may have a point there… “Yeah, but –“

“Why are you dithering?”

“I just want to be sure.”

Simon shakes his head, and Tessa can tell he doesn’t accept her reasoning. “The girl I knew was sure six years ago. I don’t know what’s happened since then, but it seems to me that if something’s been your dream for that long, it’s foolish not to take the plunge and go for it. What’s making you trip so close to the finish line?”

Folding her arms over her chest, Tessa leans back a little and bites her bottom lip. “It’s a big decision. I just… I don’t want to mess anything up.”

“Life is messy,” He shrugs dismissively, sliding the plate with her portion of dessert over to her and handing her a spoon (and curse him, it does look delicious. He always did seem to instinctively know how to satisfy her sweet tooth), “That’s just how it is. You’re going to make some mistakes along the way, but that doesn’t mean the choices aren’t worth making.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“Of course it’s not easy.” Simon half-laughs, half-moans around the spoon in his mouth, wrapping his lips around it to catch every trace of caramel before continuing. “But do you really want to look back on your life in fifty years and wonder what if? What if I’d picked the law school of my dreams? What if I took that job opportunity? What if I snuck out of the lecture I wasn’t supposed to be attending two minutes earlier and missed out on seeing an old friend…” He winks. “Better to make choices and keep moving forward than to drive yourself crazy agonizing over all the what ifs in the world.”

_What if I told that person I loved them when I had the chance? _The thought pops into Tessa’s head unbidden, but not entirely unwelcome. Simon has a point… there are so many uncertainties in life – so many different paths one might choose on any given day – and there’s never a guarantee that it will work out. Failure is always an option. But does that mean you stand still and never move forward for fear of the future? _No. _

“… You’re right,” Tessa says slowly, practically whispering, and there’s a strange fluttering in her gut that takes up residence the moment she agrees with him. It’s time to make her choice. It’s time to move forward.

And maybe… maybe it’s finally time to take the biggest risk of all.

“Of course I am.” He grins and Tessa laughs, feeling both strangely exhilarated and more at ease – digging into her dessert with renewed gusto. “I’ll give you a proper tour of the campus tomorrow, if you’d like, but I don’t think you’ll need it. This time next year you’ll be thriving in Toronto and taking selfies with True Blue.”

“Maybe I will,” Tessa chuckles, imagining Scott’s reaction to seeing a picture of her with the famous beaver mascot on her Instagram or refrigerator. He’d been horrified enough when she’d struck up a friendly relationship with the guy who played Carlton the Bear at the Scotiabank arena. (He’d skated over to say hello one night, standing right behind Scott, and had nearly scared him to death.) “But I’d still like to see it all, if you have the time.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Back at the hotel and blissfully alone, Tessa sets her purse down on the table and strips off her clothes – heading straight for the fancy shower to wash off the lingering cold and damp from the rain. It had picked back up halfway through her walk to the hotel from the restaurant, leaving her shivering and longing for the fastest way to get warm, and with Jordan still out with friends she has all the time in the world to indulge.

The white noise of the water falling around her body helps her mind to wander, and Tessa starts to mull over Simon’s words again as she rinses the shampoo from her hair.

_It’s U of T. It’s always been U of T._

_If something’s been your dream for that long, it’s foolish not to take the plunge and go for it._

_Better to make choices and keep moving forward. _

What he said was true – she had always dreamed of attending the University of Toronto. There hadn’t ever been any other options in her head, at least not back then. One of the few real arguments they’d was towards the end of their senior year when Simon had pushed back against that and tried to convince her to consider Vancouver and Tessa had gotten angry (“You knew I wanted to go to law school there when we started dating!” She’d yelled at him, utterly convinced of her choice, even then). So then, what’s changed between then and now that has her so confused?

For one thing, she’d never expected to score so well on the LSAT and have so many options. It’s one thing to be convinced of your choice when you think it’s the only one you’ll have, quite another when the whole world opens up to you.

Second, she’s older now and can see the merits that other schools have to offer without her heart being swayed by homesickness (it’s _there _of course, even now an ache thrumming in her heart, but she can dismiss it with a maturity she’d lacked at twenty-three).

There’s a third reason that Tessa hadn’t wanted to consider, but now she feels like she must. The possibility that in her determination _not _to appear to be choosing U of T because of Scott, she’d inadvertently pushed it away because of everyone else. Allowed herself to be swayed from her first choice just because she was worried about what people might think.

But why should it matter what people think? People will assume what they want to about her and the choices she makes – she can either waste her time fruitlessly trying to convince every single person of her true intentions, or she can live her life for herself and stop worrying about making everyone understand why she does what she does.

And is it really so bad to acknowledge that her best friend is one of the draws of staying in Toronto? Wanting to be close to your friends is _normal_, not something to be ashamed of. She just got caught up in all of the stupid assumptions everyone was making and allowed herself to become confused about whether or not she would be staying _for _him specifically.

But she knows now that she wouldn’t be. She wants to attend U of T. Wants to cheer for True Blue and stroll across a campus she knows and learn from some of the best and brightest minds in North America. Wants to be close enough to drive home on the weekends, to continue living with Jordan, to be able to grab lunch with the girls from the office or go to the bar with Jeff and Chiddy. Wants to watch Hannah grow up and be involved in her life.

She wants to stay in Toronto, it’s as simple as that.

Jumping out of the shower, Tessa throws on a fluffy robe and blow dries her hair just enough that it won’t drip all over the place or soak her pillowcase when she goes to bed, and tries to find an outlet for her restless energy. 

At first she considers painting her nails, but she and Jordan have a mani/pedi appointment the next morning so that would be pointless. Then she tries watching TV, but there are no good reality shows on and none of the regular dramas make any sense to her since she watches TV so rarely. _Sweet Home Alabama _is on, but that movie always makes her feel weird for some reason, so she turns the TV off and digs around in her suitcase for the book she’d brought.

That idea fails ten minutes later when she realizes she’d been spending the whole time daydreaming about what outfit she should wear for her first day of school instead of reading the words on the page.

Normally on nights when she gets like this, too restless or anxious to sit for more than five minutes – let alone go to sleep – she’d call Scott. He has a way of calming her racing heart and soothing the butterflies in her stomach that no one else ever has been able to replicate. But their conversations the past few weeks have been so… different. Awkward and full of deafening silences. She’s not even sure if he’d want to hear from her, which is a depressing thought.

_What if you’d called Scott when you wanted to? _A voice pops into her head that sounds an awful lot like Simon, and Tessa snorts out loud. Will her conscious always sound like her ex-boyfriend now? What a horrifying prospect.

But not-Simon has a point. She wants to call him, and so she will. From now on she’s going to make a concentrated effort not to assume how he’s feeling or what he’s thinking without talking to him first. If he doesn’t want to chat he can always not answer.

Standing up and stretching, she walks across the room and retrieves her phone from her purse and quickly finds his name in her favorites – tapping on it so that it starts to ring before she has a chance to second-guess herself. 

It rings more than a few times, enough for her to worry that he really isn’t going to answer (and is that because he’s busy or specifically because it’s her calling, she doesn't dare ask), but then she hears him take a deep breath and say, “Hey, Virtch, how’s Vancouver? Did you and Jordan get in alright?”

“It’s raining.” She groans loudly into the speaker by way of answering, flopping onto the bed and shuffling around to get comfortable. The sound of his voice washes over her like a balm, alleviating some of her nerves within seconds, and she settles into the blankets in the hope that this will be one of their longer conversations.

“It’s Vancouver,” He replies knowingly, and Tessa laughs. She remembers well how often they’d gotten drenched when they were here during the Olympics so many years ago. Running from one place to the next whenever he wasn’t off practicing with his team – exploring as much of the city as they possibly could in the short time they’d had.

“I know, but still. It put a serious damper on our plans to take a stroll around Stanley Park this afternoon. Remember that great big tree by the lighthouse? I was really hoping to show it to Jordan. Even though she kept saying it was ‘just a tree’ and not worth our precious time.” Tessa makes air quotes with her fingers even though she knows he can’t see them, hoping he’ll hear them in her voice. They both know that tree isn’t _just _anything – not to them.

He snorts. “To her it would be just a tree. Only you and I think it’s special, T.”

“That’s because it _is_ special,” She insists matter-of-factly, giving him no room to argue, “That tree has magical properties.”

Scott pushes back, but she can hear the teasing in his voice and knows he’s only doing it to rile her up. It’s exactly what she was looking for when she called him. Their banter is one of her favorite outlets for channeling her restless energy. “I like to think our team won gold at the Games through hard work and talent.”

She makes a tsking noise with her tongue, shaking her head for good measure. “And some help from a wishing tree. Don’t get all practical and down-to-earth on me now, Moir, you fully believed it back then.”

“I’d more likely believe it was you working some sort of magic,” He huffs, an underlying hint of exhaustion leaking into his voice, “Than an inanimate plant.” 

Tessa flushes at the unexpected compliment, tugging at the belt of her robe – untying and retying it for something to do with her hands. “You know the wish we made under that tree and the leaf we tucked into your jersey helped.”

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable psychological explanation behind it.” He’s mockingly somber, and Tessa snorts, not buying it for a second.

“Just admit the tree is magic, Scott.”

“Did _your _wish ever come true?” He asks instead, and Tessa freezes. _Her wish_. The wild daydreaming of a twenty-year-old girl praying to a plant that someday her best friend would open his eyes and heart and see what was right in front of him. It’s a complicated question with no clear answer.

“Sort of…” She hedges, “There’s still time.”

“Well if it does come true then I will admit your superstitions about the magical tree might hold some weight, but until then…” He lets his voice trail off, lilting up at the end to purposely goad her a bit more, and Tessa huffs in sudden annoyance.

“You’re no fun when you’re tired. And don’t try to deny it – I can tell by your voice that you haven’t been sleeping.”

Scott sighs, long and low, “I’m not going to deny it.” His tone falls flat and Tessa switches from playful to concerned in an instant. She should have recognized it the second he answered the phone. Apparently she's not the only one feeling restless tonight.

Softening her voice, she asks, “What’s wrong? Anything I can help with?”

Scott sighs again and she can hear the rustling of fabric before he replies, “Just a lot on my mind. What did you do today instead of the park?” It’s an obvious sidestep, but Tessa lets him take it anyway when she hears his jaw-cracking yawn. There are times to push Scott for answers, and times when he wants to keep them to himself, and she can tell this is one of the latter. 

“You know… not much. Took a tour and met some people. Had some nice chats.” It’s a shitty non-answer, but they aren’t talking about her school tours, not in detail, anyway. Which is her fault, she knows, but she just can’t bring herself to broach the topic and risk upsetting him again. Not when she’s thousands of kilometers away and can’t rush over to his apartment to make things right if they have another misunderstanding. The wounds from their conversation at the café before she left are still too fresh for both of them. “Oh! Speaking of psychology - you’ll never believe who I had dinner with tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” He yawns again, “Who?”

“Simon Brody!”

“As in your ex-boyfriend Simon Brody?” Scott’s voice becomes pointed, more focused, and Tessa muffles her exasperated giggle at his reaction. For a man who’s _probably _not in love with her, he’s always been a bit funny about the men who were.

“Yep! He’s attending the university here and we ran into each other on campus – isn’t that a happy coincidence? He’s just started earning his doctorate in behavioral neuroscience. I can’t believe how far he’s come since our psych classes together at Queen’s. I’m really impressed. I mean, he told me about his classes and his research, and it sounds so complicated, but really fascinating, too. I can’t wait to see what he does with it.” They’d re-followed each other on Instagram, and he’d made an offhand comment about her coming to his wedding if she was in town in December. It’s nice that they can be friends again now.

Scott makes a strange choking noise, then says, “I didn’t know you two were still friends.”

“Well,” She rolls over onto her stomach and shoves a pillow under her head for support, a position she found years ago was the most comfortable for long phone calls back when Jordan was going to Yale, “We weren’t friends after the breakup, obviously, but that was a long time ago and it was nice to see a familiar face today. He’s going to give me and Jordan a proper tour of the campus tomorrow, so that will be great. It really helps to see things from a student’s perspective.” _Not that I really need it now, _she mentally adds, pressing her lips together so that she doesn’t reveal that thought to Scott. She wants to tell him her decision in person.

And maybe… maybe tell him something else too, but she’s not as certain about that yet.

“Sure. Did Jordan get dinner with you guys, too, or was it just a duo thing?” He sounds tense, like he’s speaking through gritted teeth – he jaw probably clenching in that way that it does – and Tessa wants to laugh. _A duo thing? _Who calls dinner a _duo _thing? He’s being weird, she just wishes she knew why.

"No, she has other friends out here so it was just us tonight. It was nice to catch up with Simon, though, so I didn’t mind being alone with him. He’s so much more mature now than he was back then.” Mature and giving out potentially life-changing advice. It’s been an unexpected day all-around.

“That’s impressive. Did he get a personality transplant or –“ It comes out snarkier than she was expecting, and Tessa frowns.

“Scott,” She chastises, cutting him off before he can say something else in that nasty tone of voice, “Don’t be rude. You liked Simon, remember?”

“Did I?” He asks, all fake innocence.

“Yes,” She huffs, blowing hair out of her face, “You did.”

“Huh. Well we all had bad judgment when we were younger.” She can practically hear him waving his hand dismissively, and she frowns, not nearly as amused by his behavior as he appears to be.

“Scott…” She sighs. Simon’s done absolutely nothing to earn his ire, but when Scott gets into these moods it’s useless to argue with him. “– Anyway, Mr. Grumpty-pants,” Tessa grumbles, readjusting to get comfortable again, “What were you up to today?”

“I had that Calvin Klein thing.” He groans, the sound muffled by what she can only assume is his pillow, and Tessa shoots up into a seated position on her knees – guilt flooding her system. She was supposed to be there with him for that – is pretty sure it’s the only reason he’d agreed to do it in the first place – and it had totally slipped her mind. What kind of friend does that make her? 

“That’s right! I totally forgot! I’m so sorry! I feel terrible that I couldn’t be there like I promised. How did it go?”

“Awful.” His voice is still muffled by the pillow and she has to ask him to repeat himself before she can fully understand the utter misery he’s trying to convey. The poor guy has never been one for modeling or professional photography. She only hopes they didn’t put him in any ugly patterns or make him wear a tie (he hates that).

“I doubt it was that bad.”

“It was, Virtch,” Scott insists, and it sounds like he rolls onto his back before continuing (is he in bed? Do his pillows still smell like her? _No, Tessa, don’t think about that),_ “I felt so stiff and awkward the whole day and it lasted forever. I thought they’d only take like five pictures, not five hundred. I was led there under false pretenses!”

Tessa laughs at his over-dramatic antics, laying back down and getting comfortable again while giggling into the speaker as she says, “I’m sure it was much better than you thought it was. You just find it hard to take pictures without making a goofy face. Or attempting the Blue Steel.” If she had to guess, she’d bet that seventy-five percent of the pictures on the photographer’s camera today feature those expressions.

"That’s true,” He agrees and Tessa laughs again, “If they’d let me be myself it wouldn’t have been so bad, but they kept throwing around words like sexy and seductive and tantalizing and provocative – none of which are words that actually applied in this scenario, by the way - while putting me in all sorts of ridiculous poses and covering me in oil to make my muscles shiny. I felt like a slippery naked rag doll, T.”

Her giggles are mangled by the choking on her own tongue that happens the instant he puts that imagery in her head. When he’d first told her about the Calvin Klein campaign she’d assumed it would be for their clothing line – maybe with the occasional open button down or something – she’d never in her wildest dreams thought he might be _nude_!

And she’s missed it! To be in _Vancouver_ of all places!? _Well done, Tessa! _

Swallowing around the lump in her throat and trying her best to sound normal and restrained, she asks, “You were naked?”

“Well, no, not completely,” He backtracks, “But I might as well have been.”

“Scott…” Tessa audibly exhales, taking her time choosing her next words carefully so that she doesn’t accidentally reveal too much about how this news is affecting her, “You are a very attractive man. I highly doubt the pictures made you look like a rag doll or were in any way ridiculous. I bet you looked very… what was the word again?”

"Tantalizing?” He suggests, and she nods to herself.

“That’s it. I bet you looked very tantalizing.” _Tantalizing, provocative, seductive… sexy. _All of those are words she can see applying to Scott. They’re adjectives she herself has privately used many, many times.

“I’ll send you one, then you can see for yourself.” Her phone pings in her ear before she can prepare herself. “There, now you understand.”

Tessa’s quiet for a minute or two, staring wordlessly at the picture he’s sent her. In it not only is his shirt unbuttoned, just like she’d hoped, but his jeans are as well – gaping open to reveal the brand’s signature white underwear. Tantalizing doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Would it be weird to ask for his permission to set that as her phone background? It would, right? He’d probably think that was strange and invasive and definitely not platonic (she can just imagine trying to explain that to Jordan… or, god forbid, her _mom_), so instead of drooling over him Tessa opts for a simple, “It’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad?” He snorts. “You’re too kind. I don’t even know what to call that face. Upset stomach, maybe?”

She laughs, biting her lip so that she doesn’t tell him the truth – that the expression looks similar to the one he has while in the throes of passion. A thrill shoots up her spine at the realization that she knows what that looks like now. It's all still so surreal, sometimes she forgets all the new things she's learned about him lately. “That’s not what I would call it.”

“What then?” He scoffs.

“Um… sexy seems right.” There – that sounded normal, right? God, she hopes so. “I think your photographer did a good job. Like, a really good job.” She clears her throat, attempting to take on a more professional, disinterested tone. “The angles are really flattering and the way they’ve made use of the lighting is a stroke of genius.”

“Please, it’s not sexy.” He sounds a little more confident though, a hint of a smile in his voice, and Tessa feels herself starting to blush. 

“You’ve always been your own harshest critic. I promise most of the women in Canada will think you’re hot when they see it. You’ll convert a whole bunch of people to becoming hockey fans the instant they walk into a mall, just to catch another glimpse of you. Think of all the happy Canadian marriages you’ll contribute to!” She laughs and he chuckles along with her. Scott Moir, revolutionizing the hockey world through semi-nudity.

“Don’t tease me, Virtch. Look – I’ll send you another one and you’ll see what I mean. Nobody in real life poses like this. It looks so fake.”

The picture comes through, and Tessa promptly drops her phone. It’s the most risqué photo of Scott she’s ever seen. All he’s wearing is a pair of boxer briefs, and they might well not be there for all the good they’re doing. They’re tight enough to leave little to the imagination, and the way Scott’s got his thumb in the waistband and is pulling them down to show of his V is practically pornographic.

But like, good porn. The kind that doesn’t make you feel skeevy and instead leaves you wanting more.

“You can tell that it’s staged, obviously,” She says slowly, squeezing her thighs together, “But that’s not, you know, a bad thing.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s not,” She insists, shoving the hand not holding her phone underneath the pillow to keep from putting it _other _places, “I think I might go buy some Calvin Klein underwear tomorrow. You’ve convinced me. I’ll be the first victim of your new ad campaign.” If only there was a way to ask him to send her more that didn’t come off super lusty and inappropriate.

Scott laughs. “Now you’re just mocking me.”

“I’m not, seriously!” She sucks in a deep breath and then blurts out, “You look really hot, okay? Really, really hot. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it.”

Scott pauses laughing, and for a second Tessa’s worried she’s said too much, but then he tentatively asks, “I do?”

“Yes. I…” She swallows thickly, and then takes the plunge, “I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to send me more.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” He speaks slowly, something in his tone shifting and making her hold her breath in anticipation, “I’ve sent you two already.”

Tessa makes a quiet noise of protest. “I don’t have any pictures like that to trade.” It’s a lie – she owns a lot of pretty lingerie and sometimes she likes to take selfies in it, so sue her, but those are all for fun. A confidence boost when she’s having a bad day. Not like… for public consumption. Or _Scott’s _consumption (even if more often than not she’d been thinking of him when she’d taken them – wondering if he preferred her in emerald or ruby or the more traditional black or pure white).

“I find that hard to believe,” He snorts too-knowingly, and Tessa blushes crimson in the empty hotel room.

"Not anything professional,” She confesses, and she can hear him smirking through the phone.

“I couldn’t care less whether it’s professional or not. In fact, I think I prefer knowing you didn’t have a whole crew contributing to the process.” There’s a hint of possessiveness to that statement that has her blood singing, jolts of arousal shooting through her limbs, and Tessa squirms against the bed sheets.

“You really want a picture of me?” She asks, disbelieving, but also undeniably eager. She does have more than a few decent options to choose from on her phone, but she can feel a pull to take new ones. An urge inside her that wants to send him pictures that are for his benefit only. Pictures that prove this is happening here, now.

“Yes,” Scott replies right away, “If you’re comfortable sending it. You know how it goes – tit for tat.”

She giggles at his bad joke. “You don’t have any tats to trade for my tits, though.”

He snorts, definitely rolling his eyes at her. “Don’t be so literal, Virtch. I’ll trade you two more of mine if you send me one of yours. That’s four for one!”

“You’re a terrible negotiator, you know.” She climbs off the bed to discard her robe and lay it over the arm of the nearby chair, then lays back and holds the phone above her, making sure her hair is artfully arranged on the pillows like a halo before smiling coyly and snapping a photo – sending it to him before she can second-guess herself and chicken out.

“I am trying to be_ nice_ –“ Scott insists, before making a strange gurgling noise, “Shit, Tess, did you already have that or did you just take it?”

“I just took it. Did it turn out okay?” She bites her lip to hide her smile. It was a good picture, truly tits-for-tat, and she can’t help but feel gratified by his response. 

“Okay? Jesus.” His voice has gone all rough around the edges, and she giggles, proud of herself for getting this reaction out of him. “You definitely don’t need a professional team to look sexy.”

“Neither do you,” She responds quickly (if only he knew), and he laughs, matching notes of disbelief in both their voices. This is definitely not where she envisioned this conversation going when she’d decided to call him, but she isn’t about to complain. Now she’s restless for an entirely different – _good - _reason.

“Thank you?” She laughs again and he joins in, the sound doing her heart good. “I think you owe me two more now. That was the deal.”

“I’d hate to back out on a deal with my lawyer.”

“Yes, I might press charges.”

He sends two more and while they’re not as revealing as the other one (now saved forever in her camera roll), they’re still really, _really _good photos, and Tessa starts lightly rubbing her center – rolling her hips into her hand before she catches herself and promptly shoves the offending hand underneath her back. She doesn’t know what the proper etiquette is for when your best friend and sometimes sexual partner sends you semi-nude photos. Is masturbation allowed, or would it be a friendship faux pas?

"Do I get another one of you now?” He asks, sounding like an overeager teenager, and whatever faux pas this is – he doesn’t seem to care. Clearly getting sexts from her is worth crossing a few friendly lines for him.

“Sure, um – hang on.”

There’s some scuffling as she gets off the bed and digs around in her suitcase for a good pair of underwear to put on, in the process stubbing her toe on the nearby chair and cursing, before she poses the way she wants in front of the mirror. Completely naked except for the thin bit of white lace that she’d selected. (She’s got to leave _something _to the imagination for him. Leave him wanting more.)

“Fuck, Tess,” He groans quietly, and the sound shoots straight between her legs. It almost sounds like he might be… like he’s… is he? And if he is, does that mean she has permission to relieve her own mounting pressure?

“Good?” She asks breathlessly, falling back onto the bed and scooting backwards before planting her feet and moving her hand straight to her clit – desperate for relief.

“Fantastic,” He confirms, “But if you’re in your hotel room, er, dressed like that… Where’s Jordan?”

“She’s still out with those same friends from dinner earlier. Probably won’t be back for another hour or two.” She hesitates, stopping her gentle circling around her opening and biting her bottom lip before quietly adding, “We have… time, if you want to.”

“Time?” He asks, his voice thick, and Tessa knows he knows what she’s alluding to.

“Yeah. For – you know – stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Okay, so he’s decided to be purposely obtuse. She’s just going to have to spell it out for him.

“Phone sex, Scott,” She states bluntly, fed up with skirting around the issue and impatient to get started, “I’m trying to initiate phone sex with you.”

"Doesn’t that break our pinky promise to only have sex one time?”

Her heart sinks. Maybe he really was serious about only wanting the one time with her.

“It doesn’t count if it’s phone sex.” Tessa argues quietly, her hand already falling away to the mattress in defeat.

His voice comes back, quiet and almost… sad, “It counts, Virtch. It all counts.”

She has no idea what to make of that. Part of her hopes he’s trying to say that all of this, the sex and kissing and unofficially exclusive friends-with-benefits thing, _matters_. That it means something more to him like it does to her. But part of her is also terrified that he means it all counts against them – as in, it’s too much and he wants to put a stop to it.

She’s too afraid to ask. At least, not when she can’t see his face or read his body language.

When the silence stretches on for too long, Tessa clears her throat and says, “So you’re saying no?”

Scott sighs, shuffling around in his bed again, “I’m saying… not right now.”

“But you haven’t been sleeping,” Tessa tries one last time, “An orgasm would help.”

He snorts under his breath and sighs again, deeper this time. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not sure phone sex is the answer.”

“Do you really not want to – ever again?” Later she’ll be embarrassed that she asked, especially in such a small voice, but right now she needs to know if this door is really closed forever.

“What I want is for you to focus on your future right now. When you get home and you’ve made a decision and you know what you want, then we can revisit the topic of phone sex.”

It’s not the answer she expected – not an outright no or never again and _what does that mean?_ – so she hesitates, momentarily debating if it’s worth it to keep arguing with him, but then quietly says, “Okay.”

“I miss you, Tess,” Scott sighs, sounding even sadder, and Tessa would pay good money if it meant she never had to hear that tone in his voice again.

Her reply is instantaneous and full of emotion. “I miss you, too, so much.” 

“I want – I can’t wait – I’ll be happy to see you, when you come back home.”

“Me too.” _Ontario is home. _Always was, always will be.

“You’ll still be back in time for Hannah’s birthday party, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Goodnight, Scott.”

“Goodnight.” 

He doesn’t hang up though, just lets the call linger even as she can hear his breathing deepen and even out, and Tessa can’t bring herself to hang up, either. Even after she puts her pajamas on and crawls into bed, she simply plugs her phone into the charger and leaves it on next to her side of the mattress. Unable to let go.

****

On her last day in Vancouver, Tessa ends up exploring alone. Jordan got an emergency call from her office early that morning and needed to burrow in with her laptop to get some work done, leaving Tessa to wander around the city by herself.

They were supposed to go to the Capilano Suspension Bridge Park and do some hiking, and initially when Jordan told her she’d be working all day she’d still intended to go, but when she’d stepped out of the hotel into the sun it hadn’t felt right. Instead, she’d cancelled her Uber request and just started walking – letting her feet carry her in whatever direction seemed interesting. Starting with another visit to the tree in Stanley Park to retrieve one of the leaves, now safely pressed between the pages of the book in her purse to take home. 

Being in Vancouver is surprisingly okay. She could move here and be happy and probably thrive, but she doesn’t want to, and that makes all the difference. But while she now knows Vancouver isn’t the place she’ll call home for the next three years (she’s already set up an appointment with the dean of U of T when she gets back to Toronto to accept her place at the school), it’s still left an indelible mark upon her heart. Her affection for the city was strong after the Olympics, but it’s only gotten stronger in her week here, and she wants to take the opportunity to walk through the city and say goodbye.

As she leisurely strolls down the sidewalk, eating a pastry she’d picked up a few blocks away, passing the old steam clock and smiling at the crowds of tourists standing around it waiting for the whistles to go off, she passes a hair salon and freezes – staring at her reflection in the window as if seeing herself for the first time.

Her hair is long, longer than she’d realized, longer than it’s ever been, and while she loves all of the different styles she can do with it like this, a sudden urge to cut it rises up within her. She finally feels ready for all of the changes coming towards her, ready to move on to this new phase in her life, and with all of those changes a fresh haircut seems like the perfect way to start off on the right foot. To show the universe that she's ready to take on everything it throws at her.

Especially since the biggest change of all still lies in front of her. The one that will inevitably happen when she tells Scott that she’s in love with him.

Because she knows now that she has to tell him. That letting herself be consumed by all of the “what-ifs” hasn’t been doing them any favors or protecting them, it’s just been delaying the inevitable and allowing room for doubts and misunderstandings to slip into the cracks in their relationship caused by all the secrets. She can’t let herself be afraid of his rejection anymore – she has to make a choice. For better or for worse.

The second she gets back to Toronto, with her new school and new hair and new confidence in her future, she’s going to tell him how she feels. It might end up being the wrong choice, but as Simon said, that doesn’t mean the choice isn’t worth making. And she firmly believes that it is.

She just hopes Scott can forgive her for it.

****

It’s a gorgeous June day in Ilderton, sun shining high in a cloudless blue sky that stretches endlessly over the rural farmlands, and Tessa pulls over for the third time and leans out of the car door – waiting to see if the contents of her stomach are going to make themselves known this time or if it’s another false alarm.

She’s been back in Ontario for twenty-four hours and chickened out of seeing Scott four times for every single one. She has excuses for some of them – unpacking, meeting with Mr. Iacobucci, the dean of the University of Toronto Faculty of Law (a smaller man than she’d expected and wearing a suit that looked a full size too big for him, but incredibly nice and friendly), and catching up on sleep – but mostly she’s been nervously wracking her brain for the best way to tell Scott she’s in love with him. Somehow if she can just come up with the perfect script, she’s certain she can do this in a way that mitigates any pending disaster, should Scott not feel the same way.

Taking a deep breath, Tessa closes the car door and pulls back onto the road, driving the rest of the way to the Moir’s house without further esophageal incidents. She’d know the way blindfolded and it doesn’t take her long before she’s pulling up to the curb, slipping her small car between two bigger ones that she recognizes as belonging to some of Scott’s cousins. A full house, then, great. Even more people to pretend around and dodge questions from before she can get Scott alone.

For a moment she allows herself to lean her forehead against the steering wheel and imagine running away to her mom’s house nearby in London. But no, she’s here now and she’d never miss Hannah’s birthday party, no matter how nervous she is to see Scott.

Squaring her shoulders, Tessa sits up and grabs the white and gold wrapped presents from the passenger seat, then climbs out of her car – locking it for good measure. Not because of theft, but because if it’s locked it will be harder to use it as a getaway car later.

_Time to face the music. _

She’s pulled into a hug from Alma practically the second she’s through the door, followed by hugs from Danny and Charlie’s wives and some of the Moir cousins she hasn’t seen in a while, and Tessa barely has a second to breathe before she finds herself virtually carried into the crowded kitchen where preparations are underway for what must be the world’s most elaborate first birthday party.

“Wow, Alma,” Tessa takes Alma’s elbow and gestures to the spread before them, “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“Blame Scott,” Alma chuckles, reaching for a bowl of frosting and offering it to Tessa for a taste before using the spatula to add another layer to the cake, “He’s the one who insisted everything had to be perfect for his baby girl. That man’s going to spoil her something rotten if he’s not careful.” She smiles, her eyes sparkling with warmth and pride, and Tessa grins back at her – stealing another mouthful of frosting.

“He already does. But in a good way, I think. Not too indulgent, just full of love.”

Alma nods thoughtfully, “He always did have a lot of love to give. I’m glad he seems to have finally found the right place to put it.” She glances at Tessa out of the corner of her eye, but Tessa pretends not to notice. Instead waving at some of Scott's nephews and nieces where they're playing Sorry! in the corner.

“Do you know where Scott is, by chance? I haven’t seen him since I got back to Toronto.”

“Oh, out in the backyard probably. He’s been setting up decorations for the Wild Rumpus all afternoon. I think Danny might be out there helping him. You can take your presents out there – there’s a table set up on the lawn for gifts.”

“I’m gonna go say hi. Thanks, Alma,” She grabs another spoonful of frosting with an impish smile, jumping away with Alma tries to swat her with the spatula, and heads towards the back porch – her stomach now churning with confectioner’s sugar (at least if she throws that up it'll probably taste alright).

She slips through the sliding glass door just as Danny shoves Scott – the two of them laughing and horsing around and looking for all intents and purposes like they haven’t aged a day since 2004 – and grins when she hears their conversation.

“I’m offended,” Scott scoffs, pausing with his handful of weaponized watermelon mid-throw to glare at his brother.

“About the fact that you’re too over-the-top?”

"No,” Scott shakes his head and pops a few pieces of the watermelon into his mouth instead of throwing them, tossing the rest at Danny gently enough that he can catch them, “That you think my daughter will be into boy bands. She’s going to have _taste.”_

Tessa can’t resist cutting in then, and she props her free hand on her hip and cocks her head as she says, “So she won’t be listening to any of your music then.”

Scott whirls around in shock, his face running a gamut of emotions in under a second – from elation to terror and back again. But instead of trying to decipher what any of that means, Tessa just takes him in. Giving him the once, then twice, over.

He looks somehow better than she’d remembered, wearing a black t-shirt that stretches across his chest in all the right ways and his best pair of jeans, and when Tessa’s eyes find his she’s surprised to find him staring back at her in the exact same way. The blatant appreciation in his gaze makes her tug self-consciously at the hem of her short black skirt – accidentally drawing his attention to her legs.

She opens her mouth to say something, to alleviate some of the charged atmosphere and spare Danny from witnessing anymore of it, but Scott beats her to it by asking, “Where did your hair go?”

"I cut it.” She smiles, balancing the gifts in one hand so that she can tug at the short, dark strands where they brush against her shoulders. “What do you think?” She flicks her head so that the artfully styled waves swish and bounce, and then sucks in a breath when Scott suddenly steps closer so that he can reach out and touch it – taking the silky strands between his fingers and examining the length for himself.

_I’m in love with you! _No – she can’t just blurt it out. She has a speech prepared. It has to be the right moment.

“It’s different,” He says slowly, still rubbing it between his fingers, and Tessa's heart sinks in disappointment. _He doesn’t like it_. Immediately noticing her reaction though, Scott drops his hand and rushes to clarify, “Good different! I like it! It’s just going to take some getting used to. You haven’t had your hair this short in like a decade.”

“It’s way different,” She agrees, side-stepping around him so that she can place her boxes down on the table set aside for gifts, taking a second to arrange them exactly how she wants them before turning back to face him, “But I love it. I walked past this cute little salon in Vancouver and was feeling bold so I thought, why not? I was in the mood to try something new.”

Scott visibly swallows, looking nervous about something. “Mix things up a little?”

“Exactly. Sometimes change can be a good thing,” Tessa says, trying to give him the hint that she’s ready to talk about what else might be changing, searching his face for understanding, but he just stares blankly back at her until Danny steps in and gives her a hug. “Hey, Danny. It’s lovely to see you.”

“Hey, Tutu, nice haircut.” Danny ruffles her hair like he used to do when they were kids and Tessa laughs and pushes his hand away, dodging him with an easy familiarity.

"Thanks. You, too.” She points towards the shaggy mess that Danny’s hair has become with a laugh and Scott joins in, awaking from whatever stupor he'd slipped into.

“You try finding time for a trim between working and raising two kids!” Danny runs his hand through his scraggly hair defensively before pointing an accusing finger at Scott. “Besides, Scott’s hair is getting out of control, too. What’s your excuse there, Tess? You’re supposed to be keeping him in line over there in Toronto.”

“Oh, I’ve given up trying to figure out what Scott’s thinking,” Tessa laughs lightly at the understatement of the century, “I just let him do what he wants and try to go with the flow.”

“Okay, first of all,” Scott starts, folding his arms over his chest and widening his stance, “I don’t need a babysitter - I’m two years older than Tess –“

“A year and a half,” Danny interrupts, correcting him before Tessa can and winking at her in solidarity, “And we both know she’s way more mature than you, little brother.”

Scott rolls his eyes, ignoring it when Tessa elbows him in the ribs, “Second of all that’s a total lie. She likes the flow, she just doesn’t want to admit it.”

She sticks her nose high in the air and shoves her thumbs into the pockets of her skirt, feigning disinterest. The last thing Danny needs is another reason to tease her. “It doesn’t matter to me what you do with it. I am completely indifferent towards the length of your hair.”

“Ha! You wish. I bet you want to touch it so bad right now.” Scott tilts his head towards her, shaking it a little to taunt her. His “superman curl,” as she affectionately calls it, falling onto his forehead and the rest of it flopping around with an amount of volume anyone would be jealous of. “Go on, Virtch, grab a handful. I know you want to.”

And damn it – she _does _want to – but she isn’t about to give him the satisfaction of admitting that. Especially not in front of his older brother who would inevitably report that back to the rest of the family to use as ammunition in their ongoing crusade to get the two of them to admit they’re in love with each other. Which, ironically, is something that Tessa does plan to do today, but in her own sweet time. Preferably when they’re alone.

It's bad enough knowing Scott might reject her. She doesn't need an audience for it.

“I do not!” She protests loudly, her cheeks flaming red and her eyes flickering towards his hairline against her will as she pretends to shove him, and Scott throws his head back and laughs.

“You guys are so weird.” Danny huffs, staring at them strangely, and Scott jerks away and puts a few extra feet of space between them like he did when they were teenagers being accused of much more R-rated activity. It’s silly, but the second he’s gone she misses having him close.

“Speak for yourself,” Scott shoots back, but it falls flat. That same tension from their Sunday brunch starts to creep back in while she tries to distract herself by munching on grapes and Scott silently eats one of the cheese cubes. The atmosphere is strained, and Tessa can’t really blame Danny for the way he shrugs awkwardly and quickly retreats back inside the house.

_Time to start fixing things. _

“So…” She finally says, sucking in a fortifying breath and turning to face him. Absentmindedly scratching the flaking paint off the porch railing, “Do I get a proper welcome home and a hug hello?” She holds her arms out to the side in open invitation, and Scott takes a deep breath as well before nodding and stepping into her embrace.

She sinks into him almost the second his arms are around her, no intention of keeping it short or holding him at a respectable distance. It’s been far too long since she hugged him – or even touched him, really. Any touching they did during their awkward encounter at the café doesn’t count, which means the last time she’d really been held by him was the morning they’d had sex. She’s missed it. Missed him.

Scott seems hesitant at first, but eventually he tucks his face into the crook of her neck and inhales, squeezing his arms so tightly that she feels like he’s trying to draw her into himself.

“Welcome home, T,” He murmurs, lips moving against her skin in not-quite a caress, and she shivers and grips him tighter – her hands clenching around the fabric of his t-shirt, “I’m glad you made it back to us.”

She hums and presses more of her body against his, until they’re practically glued together from their chests to their knees. “There’s no place I’d rather be. Especially today.”

He nods, and she can feel him smiling against her. “Hannah will be thrilled to see you.”

“She probably didn’t even notice I was gone.” Tessa huffs out a self-deprecating laugh into his ear, and Scott shakes his head and holds onto her even tighter – until she can feel their breathing naturally syncing up. She silently wonders if they did this long enough if their hearts would start beating at the same time, too.

“No, she did. She refused to eat any vegetables while you were gone and I know that’s because you weren’t here to do the airplane thing.”

Laughing, she puts her hands on his shoulders and pushes him away so that she can look him in the eyes, arching one of her eyebrows and cocking her head with a teasing smile. “Because you’re incapable of pretending her spoon is an airplane? Please, it’s because you let her get away with saying no. I’m afraid to hear what you fed her instead.”

Scott grins and taps his fingers against her ribcage, making her squirm in his arms but refusing to let her escape. “Are you saying you of all people are discouraging a diet consisting entirely of chocolate?”

She laughs (as if she’d ever discourage such a thing!) and then sighs, leaning back into him and tucking her head underneath his chin. “I missed you so much.”

“Me, too, Virtch.”

It’s the perfect time to tell him. They’re alone, in each other’s arms, basking in the glow of reunion. All she has to do is open her mouth and say three simple words. Three simple words followed by the pro/con list she’d compiled on the flight home yesterday morning.

(There are a lot of pros, with the only con being potentially having an ugly break up – but she doesn’t think they’d let that happen.)

“Did you have a favorite… place that you visited?” Scott asks, preventing her from telling him her confession, but that’s okay. This is one question she can answer without reservation.

“I did.” She steps away and nods slowly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, her hands loosening their grip on his t-shirt and falling away back by her side. “Actually, I was hoping to have a second to tell you –“’

“Hey guys!” Chiddy pushes the sliding door open and steps out onto the porch, forcing Scott and Tessa to end their conversation prematurely and turn to face him. He’s not alone, his hand is interlaced with that of a pretty woman that Tessa recognizes from the two of them being on TV together talking sports. _Liz_. The coworker turned enemy turned secret lover. _Finally. “_I have somebody I want to introduce you to. This is my girlfriend, Liz. Liz, these are my best friends – Scott, who you’ve already met – and Tessa.”

Tessa walks towards them and holds out her hand. “Hello, Liz, it’s nice to finally meet you. We’ve heard so much about you from Chiddy.”

“Probably not all of it good,” Liz chuckles as Chiddy blushes, looking guilty as hell.

“Oh no, no,” Tessa quickly argues, feeling the need to come to his defense. “He’s always been very vocal about your work ethic.”

Scott snorts behind her, but Tessa chooses to ignore it. There was nothing factually inaccurate about her statement, even if it was really just a much more innocuous way of saying Chiddy loathed her promotion and suspected her of malicious motives for a while.

"That’s nice to hear,” Liz laughs, her eyes twinkling with mischief when she looks over at Chiddy, “I was so certain he hated me until Pyeongchang.”

“I didn’t hate you!” Chiddy loudly pronounces, earning scoffs from both Scott and Tessa that she tries to cover with a cough. “I just didn’t know you.”

Liz laughs and squeezes his arm, ginning up at him. “Aren’t you glad now that you do?”

“Absolutely.” He smiles and they share a quick kiss, before Chiddy turns back to them - his cheeks still a little pink. “I bet you guys are pretty surprised though.”

“Uh…” Scott shares a look with Tessa and they can't help it - the two of them bursting into laughter at the same time. “You do realize we knew you two were dating this whole time, right?”

“What?" Chiddy stares at them, his chin falling towards the floor. "How could you have possibly known that!?”

“Man, you are the worst liar in the world.”

“I am not!”

“Yeah,” Tessa nods apologetically, “You kind of are. I don’t even live with you and I still knew you were sneaking out all the time to see her.”

“Well what about you two?" Chiddy throws back, pointing a finger at them both, "You aren’t any better than we are!” 

Tessa honestly has nothing to say to that.

Thankfully she’s saved by practically every Moir relative in Ilderton and the surrounding area, along with Scott’s other friends and their families, walking through the backdoor and interrupting their conversation. It’s almost overwhelmingly chaotic and they all get swept up in it – Chiddy and Liz getting pulled away by a few mutual friends and Tessa immediately getting caught up in a conversation with Scott’s sisters-in-law who start gushing about how excited they are to see her and asking about her haircut and her trip.

Alma is the last to walk out, carrying a sleepy, but wide-eyed Hannah, and the party officially starts. Their conversation about school and everything else will have to wait.

The party is great and it’s quickly evident that Scott is in his element. He wrangles all the children with ease and leads them through all the games he’d planned – from building sailboats and painting faces to putting on costumes and reenacting the Wild Rumpus straight out of _Where the Wild Things Are_. At one point Jeff and Justin emerge dressed in full gear as a couple of the Wild Things – tossing Hannah high into the air and making her laugh and romping around the fake forest with the other children, giving them piggyback rides and allowing themselves to be tackled to the ground.

It's adorable to watch and Hannah seems to love every minute of it. Dressed in her own little Max costume with its golden crown sewn into the hood so that it doesn’t fall off of her head.

Tessa even joins in for some of it, allowing one of Scott’s nieces to paint a pink and yellow butterfly on her cheek and jumping up and down when her sailboat beat his in the race, but she doesn’t have the endless well of energy for parties like he does, so she bows out for the sack race and plops down on the porch swing to watch instead. Laughing when Scott carefully climbs into his while holding Hannah – how he plans to race while holding her, she has no idea.

“It makes me nostalgic.” Alma sits down next to her holding a heavy scrapbook in her arms. “Busy days like this make me wish our boys were still young. They grow up so fast.”

“But your grandkids are so much better behaved,” Tessa gently teases, smiling and nudging Alma with her elbow, “Surely that’s an improvement. “

“Oh, you don’t remember the misbehaving as much once they’re grown up and moved out. You actually kind of miss it.” She flips open the scrapbook and starts thumbing through the pictures, laughing at the more ridiculous ones and explaining some of the history behind them to Tessa. A particular favorite seems to be the one with Danny and Charlie dumping green paint all over a long-suffering Scott who couldn’t have been older than two. 

“Is that one Scott, too?” Tessa asks, pointing to a picture of Alma and Joe in a hospital room with a new baby, and Alma smiles fondly.

“Yes. Such a sweet baby and the biggest out of all three of them when he was born.”

“So much hair!” Tessa laughs, pointing at the dark fuzz covering his head, and Alma laughs too.

“Too much. Danny and Charlie used to love to make it stick up in crazy spikes during bath time. I’m a little surprised Hannah didn’t inherit it.”

“Well,” Tessa hesitates, unsure of how much to say or what kinds of conversations Scott’s had with his parents about Hannah’s birth mother. “Her mother was blonde, so I suppose she takes after her in that department.”

“I suppose she does, but I have a feeling the rest of Scott’s children will all be brunette.” Alma winks at her and turns the page, and Tessa blinks at her in shock – grasping for something to say. She couldn’t mean – is she implying – ?

“I dye my hair,” Tessa finally states, somewhat dumbly, and then immediately wants to smack her palm to her forehead. Alma bursts out laughing, patting her on the knee and fondly shaking her head – making Tessa want to dig a hole in the back corner of the yard and disappear inside it.

“I know you do, dear, but I also know what color it was when you were little.” She winks and yep, that’s it. Tessa has to go die from mortification now. It’s the only acceptable course of action after practically telling Scott’s mom she’s though about being the mother of his children.

“Hey, Scott! Where’s the cake?” Jeff comes tromping over towards where Scott is re-stacking some of the presents that got knocked over in the Rumpus, his headpiece tucked under his arm and struggling to walk normally in his oversized claw feet with two kids clinging to his legs – laughing as they’re taken for a ride across the grass. “Isn’t it time for Hannah to blow out the candles?”

Justin follows close behind carrying the little girl in question, and Alma calls out the answer. “It’s in the kitchen!”

Scott glances back at them, his eyes growing fond as he takes in the sight of her sitting with his mother, and Tessa feels a familiar heat creeping up her neck. Does he have to look at her like that? It would be fine if she knew how he felt, but she doesn’t so it just serves to make her even more confused.

_Maybe I should just walk over there and tell him – No! You can’t tell him you love him in the middle of his daughter’s birthday party, silly! _

But then his gaze drops down to the book in their lap, and he groans. “Ma, did you have to get that one out?”

"We’re looking at pictures from when you were this age and comparing them to Hannah." Alma easily dismisses his concern. "Don’t worry, you were a very cute baby.” She points at another one of him standing naked in the front yard during a rainstorm, his clothes trailing behind him like breadcrumbs telling the story of a five year old who clearly didn’t think clothes were necessary for playing in the rain, and Tessa giggles.

“It’s okay, Scott,” Charlie chimes in, “I’m sure there are only a few naked pictures in there.” He snickers and looks back at his phone, scrolling through his iTunes and syncing it up to the Bluetooth speaker, switching over to the Barenaked Ladies, and Tessa and Alma both laugh.

“Are you showing Tess naked baby pictures of me?” Scott points an accusing finger at his mother, but she waves him off – clearly unphased by his reaction.

"It’s fine. She doesn’t mind.”

She doesn’t, but it’s obvious from Scott’s face that he does, so she jumps off the seat and turns towards the house. “I’ll um… go get the cake.”

“That’s so embarrassing, Ma, why would you show her those?” Scott complains loudly behind her, and she barely catches Alma’s, “I’m sure it isn’t anything she hasn’t seen before," just before closing the sliding glass door shut behind her.

That woman is too perceptive for her own good.

The cake is still sitting where she’d last seen it in the middle of the kitchen counter, all neatly frosted and ready to go. All that’s missing are the candles and, after some digging, Tessa finds a big candle in the shape of a 1 in one of the drawers and sets it on top. The lighters are kept above the fridge, and she stands on her tiptoes to grab one – blindly feeling around for a few seconds before finally grasping a handle.

“There you are!” She holds it aloft like a prize, clicking it on to make sure it works, pumping her fist in the air when the flame successfully lights up. 

“Tess!” The glass door rattles dangerously as it slams shut behind Scott and she jerks up in surprise, the lighter falling to the floor with a clatter, barely missing her toes.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve got to talk to you.” He rights himself, having stumbled over the doormat, and Tessa quirks an eyebrow at him.

"Right now?”

“Yes. It’s important.”

“Okay.” Her eyebrows knit together and she pushes the cake further back onto the counter so that there’s no risk of it accidentally falling (that would be just her luck). She has no idea what could possibly be so important to have him bursting in here like the world’s about to end, but it must be serious. “What is it?”

Scott walks across the kitchen with determination that's frankly a little alarming until he’s standing directly in front of her, sucks in a deep breath, and then starts to talk.

“I love you.” Her mouth falls open as she lets out a gasp, but he soldiers on before she can stop him. “And not in the way we usually mean it when we’re saying goodbye or being casual or whatever. I’m in love with you. God, Tess, I love you so fucking much. I love your laugh and the way you challenge and tease and inspire me and how wonderful you are with Hannah. The way you accepted her immediately and care for her like she’s your own daughter makes my heart practically explode. I love sharing in your happiness and holding you when you’re sad and handing you metaphorical boxing gloves when you’re angry – confident that you’re going to win whatever fight you’re getting into. I love how brilliant you are and how much you care about everything and everyone. I love your freckles and how ticklish you are and your green eyes and the way your body seems to fit so perfectly with mine. I love you, Tessa Jane McCormick Virtue,” He pauses to breathe and Tessa presses her lips together in a tremulous smile to keep from sobbing in happiness. “And I don’t want to hold you back from your dreams so if you decide to go to Yale or Harvard or UBC or, I don’t know, the freaking moon, I’ll do long distance. Or I’ll wait for you. Or, shit, T, I’ll ask the Leafs to let me go so that I can transfer teams to whatever one is closest to you. Whatever you want, Tess. If you’ll have me, I’m yours. You want me to move to Boston and play for the Bruins? Done.”

“You can’t play for them, Scott,” Tessa chokes out a laugh, her voice thick with unspoken emotions and unshed tears, “You hate the Bruins.”

_Is this really happening right now? _She pinches the inside of her arm just to be sure, not even minding the sting when it means she doesn’t wake up.

“But I love_ you_.” He takes her hands and brings them to his mouth to kiss the back of them, rubbing over the spots with his thumbs as if to seal the kisses into place. “I love you, Virtch, and I’ll keep loving you wherever you decide to go, if you’ll let me.”

Tears start freely streaming down her cheeks, but Tessa doesn’t care. She’s too overjoyed to mind a bit of crying. Scott loves her. He loves _her_. All of her fears and worries, her anxiety over seeing him today and telling him how she feels. All of that is gone. Replaced by pure elation.

She reaches up to gently cup his cheek with her hand, rubbing her thumb softly back and forth when Scott’s eyes fall closed and he leans into her touch. “I’m not going to Yale or Harvard or UBC, or the moon, Scott,” She whispers, laughing breathlessly, “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I’ve decided to go to the University of Toronto. I confirmed my acceptance in a meeting with the Dean yesterday the second I got back from Vancouver. I’m staying right here.”

Scott’s eyes shoot open, shining with his own unshed tears, “You’re staying?”

“Yeah.” She smiles softly, her index finger circling around the edge of his ear. “This is what I want. This is home.”

“Oh thank god!” He scoops her up in a big hug, lifting her off her feet for a second as he squeezes her tight before setting her back down and tentatively asking, “Is that… the only thing you want? Because if it is I can live with that, T, I promise. If you want to just be friends tell me now and I’ll never mention it again. Your friendship means every -”

Does he think that she doesn’t -? Oh, this silly, ridiculous man! Deciding to let her actions speak louder than her words, she rolls her eyes and grabs his shirt, pulling him towards her, her lips smashing against his in a heated kiss that he returns wholeheartedly – wrapping his arms around her slender ribcage and lifting her up so that she’s sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter. A brilliant idea, as it’s much easier to kiss him like this, and he moans when she buries her hands in his hair (he wasn’t wrong earlier, she does love it) and gently tugs.

“I don’t want to just be friends, Scott,” She half-says, half-giggles once they’ve broken apart for air. Their chests heaving against each other. “Not anymore. I’ve been in love with you for years.”

“You have?”

“Yes.”

"Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve and chased after romance with a sort of single-minded focus." She shrugs and fiddles with the collar of his t-shirt, slipping her fingers inside to trace a triangle around his freckles that match the ones on her shoulder. "I accepted a long time ago that if you felt the same way about me you’d have made a move. Since you didn’t, I figured my feelings were one-sided.”

He laughs and captures her hand, kissing her fingertips. “All this time I’ve been trying _not _to fall in love with you because I thought that was what you wanted – I thought that our friendship was too important to risk. I was so afraid of fucking everything up.”

“We’ve been having sex and calling it platonic. That’s pretty fucked up of us.” Tessa teases, looping her arms around his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

“It was bound to happen someday. I’m surprised I managed to resist you this long, to be honest.”

“I am pretty irresistible.” She bumps her nose against his and he grins, leaning forward to kiss her again.

“Don’t I know it. The second we hooked up in Korea I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” He kisses her both of her cheeks before kissing her mouth again, “_Wanting_ you. It’s all I’ve been able to think about. I want everything with you, Tessa. I hope it’s not too soon to tell you that. I’m in this for the long haul.”

“I want everything with you, too.” She grins so widely her cheeks hurt, feeling like she might suffocate from all the emotion swelling inside her body. “There’s no getting rid of me, Moir.” She gives him a sassy look before pulling him in for another kiss and he laughs against her mouth.

It's wonderful.

It occurs to her, somewhere in the midst of the buttery yellow haze and electric hum filling her from head to toe, that he kind of just proposed and she kind of just said yes, but somehow that only makes her laugh and kiss him harder. They’ve gone about this all jumbled and messy, it only makes sense that they’d accidentally get unofficially engaged on the same day they confess their feelings.

Scott steps in closer, grabbing her hips and tugging her towards the edge of the counter, and her skirt rides up in the process - almost to her hips. A lady would recognize the fact that she’s in his parent’s kitchen and his whole family is outside waiting for them, but she just doesn’t care. Allowing him to stroke across the skin of her upper thighs and keening into his mouth and arching into him when he does. She’s in _love _with him. His family can allow them some liberties.

She tears her lips away from his and laughs at herself and the noise she just made, shaking her head at their antics. “Have I mentioned how much I love you?”

“I could stand to hear it again.” He grins and starts peppering kisses along her jawline before latching onto the spot underneath her ear that makes her whimper.

“I love you.” She pulls back and waits for his eyes to meet hers, smiling incandescently when they do, and when he smiles back – soft and warm and almost _shy_ – and leans forward, she meets him halfway, slanting her lips against his to match him perfectly.

He drops his hand to her thigh again, slipping the tips of his fingers underneath the hem. Not moving any higher, just holding her there while they engage in the best kisses she’s ever had, and Tessa’s tempted to let him touch her higher. To take this upstairs and –

“Scott, what are you – gah!” Alma shrieks and Scott tears himself away from Tessa with a serious amount of speed that leaves her bereft and almost falling off the counter. She manages to catch herself on her toes and stay upright, while Scott crashes into the fridge on the opposite wall – making the contents inside rattle loudly.

Tessa hastily tugs her skirt back down to an appropriate length, her whole face flushing crimson. “I’m so sorry, Alma, we didn’t hear you come in.”

"Yes, I can see why.” She curls her lips around her teeth and presses them together in an attempt not to laugh, but there’s mirth shimmering in her eyes that Tessa recognizes from earlier.

_I guess maybe she wasn’t so far off when she was talking about Scott’s future kids_, Tessa thinks, then blushes again. It’s way, way too soon to be thinking about that.

Scott looks appropriately embarrassed though, and Tessa notices him awkwardly shuffling to try and hide his fading erection. This has to be ten times worse for him than it is for her. She knows if it had been Kate who had caught them she’d be hiding in the bathroom right now or somewhere else equally ridiculous.

“I’ll just… go…” Tessa glances awkwardly at them both again before excusing herself and slipping through the door behind Alma, grateful that she doesn’t have to stay there and listen to what’s sure to be a little bit of lecturing and a whole lot of teasing.

“I thought you were getting the cake.” Chiddy looks at her curiously, and Tessa looks up to find Jeff standing next to him with the world’s biggest shit-eating grin on his face, holding Hannah in his arms. And Tessa realizes he's standing right next to the kitchen window. 

“Looks like she got something else instead.” He taps his lips and points to her, and Tessa reaches up to touch them. “Your lipstick is smeared. How did that happen, Tess? Were you kissing the cake, by chance?”

“I –“ Tessa stammers, turning pink under his and Chiddy’s steadily increasingly excited stares. “I don’t, um…”

“Oh my god.” Chiddy laughs, turning and whispering something in Liz’s ear, and Tessa turns her face away to try and fix her lipstick when Liz lets out a little _oh! _and smiles at her.

Jeff waltzes over to her side, all confidence and swagger, and throws his free arm around her shoulders. “Looks like Scott couldn’t wait for his dessert, eh Tess? Next time you go inside to get lucky though, could you wait until _after _the rest of us have left? I don’t want to walk in on anything indecent. And there are _kids _here –“

“Oh my god!” Tessa slaps her hand over his mouth, making Jeff, Chiddy, and Liz all laugh. “I’m gonna kill you, Jeffrey Buttle.”

Saving him from murder, Alma walks back out onto the porch, followed by Scott carrying the lighter and the cake – encouraging everyone that had gathered nearby to turn towards him so that they can sing and Hannah can blow out the candle.

Scott retrieves Hannah from Jeff, sharing a private smile with Tessa and a nod that has the butterflies in her stomach fluttering with joy, and Chiddy jabs her in the ribs with a grin and a wink.

Once Scott’s got Hannah situated in front of the cake and the candle is lit, the whole group starts to sing. What it lacks in melody it makes up for in enthusiasm, and Scott dances around with Hannah to make her smile and laugh – her whole face lighting up with recognition when they sing the part that says, “Happy Birthday dear Hannah!”

When the song ends his mom holds the cake out so that Hannah can blow out the candle, but Scott pauses - then, taking Tessa completely by surprise, he gestures for her to join them. “Come on, Virtch, you need to be in on this, too.”

“Are you sure?” She hesitates, looking around at the rest of his family before back at him, and Scott nods - encouraging her to come stand by his side.

“Yeah. We’re making memories as a family, after all.” He smiles and takes her hand, lacing their fingers together, and Tessa beams back at him. There’s a muted reaction from the crowd – hushed questions and quiet exclamations and someone loudly muttering _fucking finally _(she really is going to murder Jeff later) – but Tessa can’t help the grin on her face or the way she lets Scott tuck her into his side with Hannah. _Like they’re a proper family_.

She’s never been happier.

“Come on, Hannah-banana,” Tessa reaches out to take Hannah’s hand, the three of them leaning forward together, “Like this.”

She and Scott blow at the same time. Hannah doesn’t quite get it (she reaches for the candle instead and they have to quickly intercede before she burns herself), but together they blow it out as everyone cheers.

It’s everything she ever wanted, and it's absolutely perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, we made it to the end! Who would have thought 5 chapters would take almost 100k and so long to write, haha! But we got here eventually. Thank you for sticking with it and reading and loving this story with me. You're all amazing. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for the love and support you gave Change Directions. I appreciated it so, so much. I know there were more than a few requests for the story from Tessa's point of view and while I can't commit to rewriting the whole thing, I hope getting a glimpse into her thoughts will bring you some happiness and satisfaction. <3


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